Slipping Backward
by llamasandcookies
Summary: Meet Eileen Byrne. She's dead. But instead of darkness, she finds herself falling past space into a new reality. In war it's kill or be killed, but she finds one man to stop her from slipping off the edge. Laughs? Tears? Swoon worthy men? You've arrived.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien's works_.

_A/N Hello, hello. For all my old readers i would appreciate it if you read this chapter and told me if you think it is better than the old prologue and also if you think it gives enough info to avoid confusion. Actually, maybe scratch the confusing part because this is a rather confusing chapter anyways. To all of my new readers, enjoy! And everyone please review i'll take anything. I love criticism even stones, except when they hit me in the teeth because after many a year of braces i want to keep my straight teeth until they fall out naturally. I decided there are way too many stories with sues falling into books and through rainbow clouds so i decided to take a more serious approach until the fun begins._

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**Ch. 1: Prologue**

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The room was quiet. A warm brown color splashed life onto the walls. The sweet aroma of fall swirled in through the open window. Little knick-knack figurines and photos covered the two small dressers. At the center of the room was a twin sized bed with a sleeping figure tucked gently in. Two plush armchairs were drawn up next to it and were presently occupied by a pair of elderly women.

"Asleep again?" questioned the plump sitter on the right.

"Yes, but Cheryl said that has been a common activity for her these past few weeks." answered the other solemnly. Then she added with sadness, "I doubt it would make a difference if she was awake."

They said she was gone, too far gone for any thoughts to liven her mind. And so she slept and sometimes sat up in stuffy chair gazing forward with blank, unseeing eyes. A pity, a shame they said, that such a mind would be left to rot before the body could follow.

But to the mind within the body there was a different perspective.

She was no longer Ms. Byrne, the old woman down the street who had taught history at Kennington Middle School, Ohio. No longer the old woman in Red Sun Elderly Facility. That silent, kind eyed, old woman with Alzheimer's.

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Eileen Byrne was eighteen again. Tripping on her baggy blue sweatpants in her frantic attempt to be on time at least once for the mini-bus.

'Everytime she was late', Coach Kriline would harp. 'Couldn't she run to the bus just like she ran a race', Coach Kriline would lament.

Late, late, late. Her backpack swung as she jogged. Suddenly her brown hair whipped in her face and momentarily blinded her. Her foot went up but was jerked back by a caught lace. Her breathing got labored and heavy and her track bag went flying as she frantically threw her hands in front of her to shield herself from the unyielding concrete.

She was no longer taking in air, her head got light.

She never hit the pavement.

She slipped into darkness, total, utter darkness. She tried to lift an arm but found she could not locate it. Tried to pick up a leg that was no longer there.

Images flashed before her. A sweaty old man with big glasses stuttering about a teaching job.

A young woman crying over a letter.

A pale old woman in a bed, with wide staring eyes. A plump woman beside her was shouting and another had a hand over her mouth. Then A nurse was pressing on the old woman's chest, pumping for any sign of life.

Eileen hovered above the scene. Detached, but knowing that the old woman would not get up because she was… No she couldn't say it she was Eileen Byrne. She was an eighteen year old senior at Limburg High school, not an eighty year old senior citizen.

But still, she felt like she should remember. Why couldn't she remember? She felt like she had had this feeling before, not being able to remember images or faces that screamed of familiarity. But when and where? It was futile she just couldn't… remember.

The scene went dark again and she was floating; flying past stars and blank space.

Then suddenly a blinding light flashed before her and out of it spoke a voice. It was giving her choices, asking questions. She couldn't concentrate.

She didn't want to die, she had hardly lived.

Or had she, who was the women? And why did she look so eerily alike to her?

"Make your choice." The voice pounded, "Life and ignorance or death and infinite knowledge."

A black hole was gaping before her; she was rushing faster and faster toward it. Sucking silently at the empty space around her like some vast, grotesque whirlpool of black air.

"Choose" The voice bellowed.

Life her mind screamed, I want to live.

"If it is life you crave, then have it you shall." The voice was fading, "But you will be left alone, lost, and without any knowledge of the place you will go."

The time for dying has not come, let this be a nightmare. Let me live.

The black hole swallowed her and she saw no more


	2. Introductions

_Unfortunately I don't own any of The Lord of the Rings, or any of Tolkien's other works. The only things I own are my own characters such as Eileen and Olin. I know so sad._

_A/N I'm mixing it up with the dwarves, who are awesome so it's all good.__ PS Italics are Middle Earth languages, ex Khuzdul, Westron. Remember to review it can be one word or a page if you want._

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**Ch. 2: Introductions**

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The first thing I was aware of was the touch of cool, moist grass underneath my fingers. Upon opening my eyes I was introduced to a sideways view of a world of grass and trees. I was just beginning to regain feeling in the rest of body when I became uncomfortable aware of my backpack cutting off the circulation in my left forearm and jabbing me in the neck. Groaning, my muscles screaming in protest as if they hadn't been used in years, I managed to push myself up to look around.

Wow…

This place was like something out of Animal Planet. There were tall, proud oaks and other such trees that I don't know the names of with big leafy blankets strewn across the sky. There was a large rock formation across the way. The grey and white rocks steadily rose to form a ledge and a little right of the center were dark boulders jutting up to the clouds like crooked, pointing fingers. I walked over for further scrutiny and could hear the gentle sounds of water, gurgling and hissing. The whole place had a hushed and surreal feeling, peaceful in its loneliness.

Well this is by far the best dream I've ever had. I must have blacked out. Either that or the lunch lady spiked my Fuse with hallucinogens, which isn't entirely out of the question...But something just wasn't right here. Dreams, as real as they may feel, are lacking in certain major senses like touch and smell. They also have a, well, dreamy feeling to them and this felt ominously real.

Shaking my head I hurled my backpack onto the rocks, which may or may not have been a good idea, but hey you try and think rationally in a situation like this. Ok, I'll just sit down and try to collect what is left of my shattered sanity.

I touched the rough, warm surface of a rock and my head reeled. This is definitely not a dream no rock feels that real in a dream… I must have been drugged and kidnapped. The panic began to rise in my chest as I looked around wildly for my assailant.

But no assailant came, not in an hour and not in a day.

Hunger was gnawing at my stomach, grumbling its discontent as if I had not already noticed. I had located the river, which was in reality a stream. It was just on the other side of the rocks and I lay next to it for a few hours. Grabbing handfuls of the clear, cold water to satisfy the animal in my stomach.

I had eventually gained enough confidence and wandered around for any human life, but I knew that wasn't likely as I hadn't heard anything except for birds all day. Although some of those looked strangely human when they stared with large, intelligent, eyes and cocked their heads to one side as if trying to know more about me by seeing every angle.

Embarrassing it is to dwell on, I was terrified. I was hungry, but I dared not venture too far from my river in case I got lost. And then there was no telling what would happen, death by hunger, dehydration, or animals. At least in my present situation I had a steady supply of water.

Night came, bringing cold. I shivered more out of fright though. I don't remember ever sleeping, I would just lie on the rock staring up into the black skies, but the night sky was beautiful here. No light pollution, just black and purple and a million tiny stars floating above.

Another day came and with it a few edible berries. Another night came and with it whipping winds and the distinct sound of wolves howling.

By the fourth day hunger had turned to a dull, ever present ache. I spent my hours lying next to the stream and even ate paper from my notebooks like a wild goat. I had to laugh a little while munching on paper. Thank the lord I had decided to bring home my enormous science notebook. There were enough three page physics problems to last me a month.

If only I could last a month.

The sun was setting pouring red, purple, and pink into the stream like paint.

The bushes rustled and something behind them was making a puffing, scraping noise.

I shot up with all the energy left in my considerably smaller body. I carefully grabbed a sharp rock.

A wolf's head emerged shaking its grey mane. Grumbling and growling.

I shrieked like my hair was on fire and threw the rock as hard as I could at it.

Then the wolf's head snapped up and revealed a-a man's face. Who sprang up in time to receive the rock in the chest rather than the head. I stumbled backward in my surprise and fell over.

He looked confused at first and then angry and started to grumble at me in no doubt his own made language.

I scrambled to my feet in search of a menacing weapon. Ahh, there you are. A little small and a few leaves, but the stick was sturdy and my best bet now. Then I eyed an axe coming up in hands. Just bluff it, just bluff it'll work…

"Stay back, I'm warning you I know how to use this." Then I swung the branch around for good measure

He lowered his axe and a smile crept onto his face, then he started to laugh. He waved his hand to me as he put his axe down, babbling some more nonsense.

I scowled at him while trying to pull of my fiercest face. It didn't work to well because he was far from terrified.

His face was red with laughter as he chuckled at my hostilities. The impudence! He ambled over to me. He was weaponless now and I could see he was roughly four feet and a couple inches tall. At any rate I towered above him at five feet six inches. He didn't seem to pose any immediate threat. All the energy that I had retained was just spent and I was having a hard time standing let alone persuading him to scram. I was hungry, I was cold, and night was fast approaching. And man was I lost, completely, utterly lost. I mean where was the nearest forest complete with ancient trees, a full rock formation, a river, and indigenous mountain dwellers? Nowhere near my suburban high school that's where. I'd give beardo here a chance, but still keep this branch just in case.

I slid down to sit on the rocks, exhausted.

"_Do you speak Westron, little lass?"_

I looked blankly at him and shrugged my shoulders. Then I proceeded to ask him

"Do you speak English?" over emphasizing each syllable just in case.

No response.

"Sprecken sie Deutsch?"

Nothing

"Parlez vous Francais? Espanol? Italiano?" every language I could think off spurted out of my mouth.

Nada

Then it was his turn

"Blah di blahh blah blah."

Nope, not getting it. I shook my head.

After a little while of this nonsense he sighed and pointed to himself. _"They call me Olin son of Folin."_ Then he pointed to me expectantly.

From his hand gesture and emphasis on the Olin and Folin part I guessed that was his name. Though Lord only knows what parent would possess the cruelty to name their child Olin Folin, but I guess there is a first for everything. So I pointed to myself repeating the process.

"My name is Eileen Byrne," Then pointing to him said, "And you are Olin Folin."

He nodded excitedly, oh so cute. Though he looked like the type that wouldn't appreciate it if I could communicate those sentiments to him.

Olin Folin shuffled over to a flat piece of rock and sat down. He motioned to me and I eyed him cautiously, but he had been nothing but kind to me since first seeing me. I picked up my track bag in one arm and kept my stick firmly in the other. I walked over and sat down opposite him.

I began to examine him closely during our present inactivity and observed with a little discomfort that he was to doing the same to me. Already mentioned he was a little guy and I could now see he was a little chubby as well, but of a stocky look. He had grayish hair that looked to be originally a dark color. It was bushy and braided as was his chest length beard, no joke this thing was at least a foot long. Underneath all his hair was a weather-beaten face adorned with scars. It gave him a tough look, but not a mean one. He had a kind elderly countenance with brown smiling eyes that wrinkled at the corners. His hands were calloused and tough and the tip of his left index finger was missing.

He was, to my horror, decked out in the mother of all ancient medieval wear. His cloak was grayish brown and looked worn and torn, under that he had an ornate brown and green warrior getup and, dare I say, actual chainmail that peeked out at his elbows and neck. He had thick, brown leather boots that went up over his shins and leather gloves that exposed his fingers.

Done with my inspection I looked up at Olin Folin expectantly, wondering why he had convened this little meeting.

He didn't disappoint.

"_Now let me see lass, they call you Ileen Burn, but that does not explain why you have attired yourself thus queerly, and what is this flappy parcel."_ He poked my pink track bag and I snatched it defensively, still having no clue what he was saying in his harsh, strange language. "_Ahh, more importantly, how did you get here." _He pointed to the ground as he said this. I got that motion and reeled off.

"I have no idea how I got here, I think I've been kidnapped or something terrible like that. You have to believe me, I know it sounds crazy, but the last thing I remember is walking to the school bus and then everything went dark and I woke up in the middle of this place. Please help me you're the only one out here in this wilderness and I am terribly lost!" I was entering hysterics at this point. I was so hungry.

He looked baffled.

Oh right can't understand me. This is just awful. I held my head in my hands and bit my lip willing myself to wake up after having had a bad fall in the parking lot, but I knew it was hopeless, this was no dream.

I could feel my nose prickling and my eyes filling with tears. "Do you have any food, just a little?" I begged him. He looked at me with pitying, but uncomprehending eyes. I screwed up my face to prevent the flood, "Food!" I gasped, moving my mouth in a chewing motion and bring my hand up in imitation of a spoon.

"_Oh!" _He exclaimed and to my complete joy brought out a piece of dried meat from his pack. I grabbed it and began to devour it with all the fervor I had left. I looked up at him, but wished I hadn't as he looked at me with all the pity of a person looking at a puppy mill survivor. I liked to think that I still had the right to retain a little pride.

"_Alright, so you don't speak Khuzdul, and I have tried Westron and fragments of Sindarin and Quenya, but what to do with such a human." _He looked around him confusedly, _"O Course!"_ He exclaimed something happily, _"I will bring you with me and my companion to Radagast the Brown, maybe he will know your language or at least what to do with you, poor lost creature as you are."_

Then our pleasant if not pathetic conversation was rudely interrupted.

"_Olin, where the devil are you!" _cried a rather intimidating and deep voice from across the bushes. Olin I could take, he may be a little nutty but he was nice, this other nutcase didn't sound so promising. What if these were the people who had kidnapped me and brought me here.

I sprang up and bodily hurled myself behind one of the huge slabs of black stone. Leaving my precious beef jerky behind. I looked tensely from behind the rock.

There was another hairy little man, but unlike my kind new companion this one did not look so kind-hearted. He was younger than Olin with the same mane of hair and beard except in light brown. He had a stern rough face, big bushy eyebrows, and a large, crooked nose that looked like it had been broken at least three times. His clothing was just like Olin's, but he had the added feature of a helmet and carried a wide sword and bow instead of an axe. He apparently did not take well to Olin sitting fine and dandy with my backpack because he was yelling at Olin and pointing at it while Olin was desperately trying to calm him.

"_Olin I have been hunting for food for two hours and come back to an empty camp only to find you sitting here with this foreign and possibly bewitched rucksack, judging by its unnatural color."_

"_Be calm Durvin. I can explain, I have found a girl an-"_

"_WHAT! Oh, Olin what have I told you! Our quest is highly secret and we cannot jeopardize it by having tea with strangers. Besides what girl would be a five week journey from the nearest human settlement? She is probably a spy or a witch."_

"_Shhhh, Durvin you will scare her she is only a human-child and she looks perfectly harmless. In fact I have strong reason to believe she has been lost from a caravan of traveling families. Her tongue is extremely strange and she cannot wield a weapon. You should have seen her trying to brandish a branch at me."_

"_That may be some trick of Saruman. She seems helpless now until the night creeps on_," then his voice lowered_, "and all of Isengard is upon us."_

"_Please Durvin. Calm yourself and just take a look at her, once you see her you will understand there is no threat. She was starving when I found her. She surely will die if we leave her alone."_

Olin pointed to my rock and the other mountaineer looked up. I ducked behind it quickly. Ahhh, I gotta get outa here before I get murdered by crazy and his dad. I couldn't stop thinking about all the places they could bury me.

"_My lady Ileen Burn, please come out and show good Durvin you are no foe." _entreated Olin.

Oh, Olin. The only one in this wilderness who is not a rock and has been kind to me. His voice was gentle and kind, despite its gruffness. I poked my head out from behind the rock with eyes that must have been as big as tennis balls.

"Olin" I called back shakily.

He smiled benevolently as I looked back terrified. _"Come, it is safe here."_ He beckoned waving his hand in a "come hither" way. I glanced at the other who was looking stormy.

"Olin if I come out you have to promise not to let thing two here attack me." I asked inclining my head to the newcomer.

The other had gasped at my speech, which he had clearly never heard before and Olin thought I wanted an introduction.

He pointed to me "_Ileen burn," _then pointing to the light haired midget said_, "this is Durvin son of Durilin."_

Well at least Durvin Durilin wasn't as horrible a name as the rhyming Olin Folin, but it wasn't a far cry I have to admit. So I have officially stumbled upon two of Snow White's seven dwarves.

I nodded in affirmative to Olin's intro and pointed to Durvin, "Durvin Durilin."

Now Durvin was absolutely fuming, though I have no clue why_. "Olin, what have you done she know our names, what more will you divulge."_ Then he whispered something in Olin's ear, _"Why don't you just tell her that we are seeking Radagast the Brown and have been tracking him for 23 days."_

Olin looked sick at whatever news Durvin had imparted to him and was twisting his hands nervously _"Well about that Durvin, I have already informed her that we will be visiting the wizard Radagast,"_

Durving looked ready to spontaneously combust, _"Olin, now we must take her with us whether she be friend or foe, for the knowledge she now has cannot fall into enemy hands." _

I was having trouble concentrating on what was going on. My head felt so light. I started to slide down and the edge of my vision was growing darker. I just need to sit down for a little while…


	3. Questions for Questions

_Once again i don't own Lord of the Rings, though if i rule the world i will, and contrary to popular belief I have no intent to steal any of Tolkien's great works_

_A/N Enjoy, my beloved readers! I had lots of fun writing about the animals and imaging the hut, don't worry more to follow. Finally Eileen will know whats going down. PS the bold is for Radagast's mind speech thingy.__ Thank you all that read and my first reviewer Roanie.__ Thank you also to my reviewers ButterflyArtist and Heissonfairy, lovin the support__Please feel free to review and add constructive criticism at any time just don't burn i have sensitive skin._

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**Ch. 3: Questions for Questions**

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I hate the woods…and walking. Used to like them, but not anymore… maybe tomorrow… maybe. Hey, you have to agree that walking for six hours tends to dampen your outlook on them.

After being stranded in a forest for days, being discovered and then blacking out, and then rediscovering myself slung across the back of a donkey I was now sure I had gone insane. I lamented my lost wits on that donkey, before my two new traveling buddies were aware I was awake.

It was only a few hours after that when that ugly, furry, miserable, mountainous creature Durvin had forced me on this death march for reasons unknown to me. I probably would have run away even if they stabbed me in my retreat if I hadn't remembered how it felt to be lost in the woods alone.

Fortunately I found that I could talk to the nice little mule, though be assured I received many a judgmental look from Durvin. Naturally they were bent on torturing me so I could no longer ride it, but at least Olin had taken pity on me and let me haul my track bag onto its back. Olin sometimes said comforting words, which baffled me because I couldn't understand him anyways, but I guess he was telling me we would see civilization soon, hopefully within the next hour, after all the nearest highway shouldn't have been that far out.

"_Well my young friend we should be nearing the bit of forest that Radagast the Brown has been known for studying animals in and after our meeting with him it is only about a two week journey to the human village of Bree."_

Olin began to chatter excitedly to Durvin while making gestures towards me. I stopped wearily to rub my lower back before returning to my trek.

"_Durvin, take pity, the poor lass is exhausted. Come let us make camp now."_

"_No."_

"_Look at her, how her legs drag."_

"_I won't."_

"_She looks all skin and bones, let her rest and eat."_

"_Humans always look that way."_

"_For my sake, old friend, it would ease my mind."_

Durvin looked up searchingly at Olin with hard eyes.

"_Oh bother it all. Have your camps." _He grumbled.

Olin smiled and waved me over. He was blabbering happily and unloaded his gear in a small clearing. I slung my backpack onto the ground. Durvin was relieving Patrick, yes I named the donkey, of his load and he tossed me an ancient, hand woven blanket. I looked at it dumbstruck. Good lord, we're in the 21st century they needn't take their mountaineer life so seriously.

Thinking about that I looked at them skeptically, who wears a foot long beard and chainmail. These guys have crossed a new level of role-playing and have long sensed leapt over the border of sanity… and I'm completely dependent on them. Fantastic.

Resigned to my unfortunate fate I laid out the blanket carefully making sure there were no creases before putting my bag at the head and flinging myself down in a fetal position. Olin chuckled and mumbled some more gibberish. He took time out of tending to a fire he had somehow produced to waddle over with a rough, lumpy, bread looking substance. He pointed to it _"Bread."_ Ahh, so the mind games have begun, it's on little man. "_Bread_" I repeated confidently, but the words sounded harsh and strange on my tongue and didn't come out quite right. Olin smiled happily and handed me the stuff which I promptly shoved into my mouth, hungry was an understatement for my condition.

Olin had sat down on a rock and after watching me devour the bread he tapped me on the shoulder. Coughing and spluttering a bit I turned to him a little annoyed, he pointed to a tree _"tree_." Oh not this again, "_tree_." He proceeded to teach the words in his language for grass, sky, mule, rock, drink, and other such things he could point at and say. He also made a point of my learning what race he called himself, "_Khazad_," which I guess meant midget or dwarf whichever one was politically correct to him. It was tedious, but there weren't too many words to memorize and I decided I might as well try to breach our communication gap just in case the town they took me to spoke the same language. Besides Olin looked exceedingly happy at my progress and even Durvin was looking on curiously

"_What a smart little bird she is, Durvin." _

"_Yes, yes. Have your fun old man. Teaching wenches how to speak seems a terrible long process to me."_

"_Aye, it tis, but look how she holds so well to the words. It won't be long with this one."_

Durvin chuckled, "_You always loved to teach broken birds how to fly."_

"_Aye, I did. And you always loved to see them take flight."_

The dwarves were laughing and talking during dinner and afterward Olin taught me some new words and the three of us were getting along pretty well. Maybe this wouldn't be so terrible after all. Though initially wary I could see that Durvin was a loyal friend if he could be persuaded to trust you. I could see that he was very devoted to Olin even if he did get frustrated with him sometimes.

I geared up for the long night, and though I was beginning to trust my new companions, there is no one a lone girl would be comfortable sleeping with two armed men in the middle of a deserted forest. I don't care of their only four feet tall, who knows what kind of creeps lurk around this heap of trees and dirt.

I don't think I slept more than two hours that first night.

I would wake up every five minutes to my worry racked mind and have the despair of my aching back, neck, and shoulder to contend with before I would slip back into a fitful doze. Normally when I go camping we have nice air mattresses or at least some foam to put my sleeping bag on and in the tent I was protected from insects. I thought that sleepovers crammed on the floor were the worst way to sleep, incorrect. Sleeping outside on the hard, cold ground was. No romantic sleeping under the stairs on the soft grass for me. No, I slept outside with bugs crawling on me and the ground was hard and bumpy with no chance of escape from the hundreds of tiny rocks that saw fit to dig their stony nails into me.

We had been traveling for three days and let me tell you, I was sore, I mean at track I would be sore in places I didn't even know I had muscle, but three days of constant walking left every muscle in my body aching. I was reflecting on my situation for the thousandth time and I discovered that my trust in the two dwarves had deepened significantly over the past three day. I had always seen Olin in a good light due to his natural ease and warmhearted nature, but I found that Durvin was just as admirable, in his own way of course. He may have been a little wary and gruff at first, but I found him loyal and actually pretty funny. He struck me as an honest kind of person who once their friendship is gained it is not lightly tossed aside.

Alas, such ponderous thoughts on my companions could only last so long before my back or feet interrupted them. It was in another one of my despondent reflections on the luxury of my bed when we came upon a cozy little hut built into the side of a mountain.

This is the town…

We've been walking for three days and the nearest semblance of human life is a hut. This has to be joke. I can't take this.

"Alright buddy, where are we? There is no way we could have missed a highway by now. Where's the camera, I not playing around." I said angrily.

Olin looked highly affronted and Durvin scoffed, _"We take her with us to seek the counsel of Radagast the Brown and to the only shelter outside of Rivendell and she is not satisfied. Women."_

A bunny hopped up to me and completely diverted me from my rage. "Oh you cute little nugget, I hope you don't have rabies. Oh dang where did all those birds come from?"

A flock of blue birds had just flown in from a particularly ancient and humongous looking oak tree.

I was imitating the chirps of the birds via whistling when another whistle broke through the air and a man who could only fit the description of father time walked out of the hut. **"Ahh, I see another enjoys conversing with the birds."** He exclaimed delightedly.

I looked him up and down. He was in a floor length dress, carrying a great big wooden staff and had long, white, straggly hair. If I thought the other guys were weird I've just met captain insano. He was mad.

Then I did a double take did I just actually understand what he said. I was mad! Either that or I was going to kiss him.

Then I thought again, was this all a scam. Did he just screw up and Olin and Durvin, whom I had grown to trust, been lying to me. I eyed him suspiciously. "How come you don't speak their language?"

**"Oh my you don't speak any language I've ever heard of, but luckily for you I'm not speaking a language."** I looked up petrified, I didn't even check to see if his lips were moving. **"Oh yes, you see I'm a master of creatures. I do not speak the language of the rabbit, but we can converse because I speak to the mind."**

Okay this was just starting to sound like some corny Disney write in like when Pocahontas just "listens to her heart" and then can instantly speak perfect English.

**"Of, course it does not work on all animals, for not all, such as the snail, have intelligence that is required to speak through the mind, but no doubt you are highly intelligent. I could sense that right away when I talked to you."**

I now decided to test my own mind powers, **"Very flattering, but tell me why are you wearing a dress."** I laughed a bit at my own humor.

He appeared nonplussed,** "This is not a dress it is the robe and now I would be pleased if you would tell me your name since you no doubt already know mine is Radagast the Brown."** I reddened visibly. I had not meant to so cruelly insult the old coot no matter how crazy this was. I thought he was just a ventriloquist or something. Things were stepping over the weirdness level.

**"Sorry, I'm not usually so rude it's just this just seems so impossible to me. This and the last week." **I needed some answers and needed them fast. "**My name is Eileen Byrne." **Hopefully Radagast would be able to help me since he was the only one I could comprehend.

He turned to the dwarves and spoke to them out loud, of course once again in their gibberish language. He was a cheerful old man and was very welcoming, almost bordering on naïve. He didn't interrogate us or anything. Lord knows I would have wanted to know why two midgets and a girl were wondering around the forest medieval style, but then again he looked like he was from the same cult as Olin and Durvin with his get up and he was probably desperately lonely in the middle of nowhere.

We were ushered into the hut which proved to be much bigger on the inside than it looked. It was also filled with animals: birds, dogs, cats, and a myriad of other small creatures. I noticed that Radagast was taking a keen interest in Patrick. On looking out the window I noticed the general vicinity was filled with wild life and in his backyard was a small field with hay where several horses and ponies were grazing. Being the animal lover I was, I was in heaven and while Olin, Durvin, and Radagast were talking I was busy petting the animal and getting way too excited for when we went to the backyard and I got to pet the ponies.

"_Radagst, we bring grave tidings of the treachery of Saruman. We were making our way to the Mines of Moria to see how Balin has fared these past years when a great eagle swooped down and told us of the treachery and how Saruman went so far as to imprison Gandalf."_ Radagast looked aghast, _"but never fear, that same eagle told us he had personally seen that Gandlaf was taken away from Isengard. We were told to seek you out and inform you so that you too would be warned."_

Radagast was silent and several minutes ticked by until he began wearily, "_I have been a fool. I thought Saruman would never betray us, I thought I could trust him, he who was my companion from the start. I have failed you and almost led Gandalf to his death. It was I who told Gandalf that Saruman required him, but I had no idea of his treachery."_

Durvin looked suspiciously at the old wizard, but Olin could see the truth, _"I have seen many traitors in my long life Radagast, and you are not one of them. You served the leader of your order without thought of the blackness festering in his heart. I know this because if you had turned to him these pure creatures would have fled you and instead of squirrels, hens, and canaries your lands would have been infested with wolves and hawks, creatures of the night that prowl with yellow eyes and jagged teeth."_ Durvin was once again struck by the wisdom of Olin and nodded in agreement.

Radagast was tearful, _"You who are so good to me. Yes my creatures have always been my constant companions and even stand up for my honor when the cause seems hopeless. But still the weight of my part in the dark scheme falls hard upon me and I cannot help but think what evil may come out of my blindness."_

"_Enough, of this dark talk, we have delivered our message and it has been successfully imprinted on the receiver. Let us not dwell on actions that cannot be reversed. Let us look to the future which looks bright while we are under your great hospitality."_ Durvin commented. Radagst was lightening up and looked happily at an unknowing me fondling a cute mutt puppy.

"_Ahh, yes, let us move onto the subject of our new arrival."_ Olin spoke the thoughts of all three.

I looked up from the adorable puppy I had been scratching to see Olin, Durvin, and Radagast all staring at me. Scariest experience of my life, well besides waking up in the middle of nowhere, having a midget with an axe approach me, hav-… okay maybe a little way down the list.

They all looked eerily curious, but benevolent at the same time so I decided to take some action. **"So… watcha lookin at?" **ooh I love mind powers.

Radagast was the only one who could hear me "**I'm not sure what your phrase meant Eileen, but I would very much like to ask you a few questions."**

Ha, he wants me to ask a few questions, I on the other hand have about a billion questions for my friend namely why in the world are you wearing that dress. "**Sure, Radagast I'll tell you everything you want to know if you return the favor."**

"**I will be more than glad to"** he said cheerily and then turned to the dwarves who were looking bewildered and I guess he explained our mind conversations. **"To start Eileen I would like to know from where you hail, for I have never heard of this Byrne."**

"**Oh, well I don't live in Byrne that's my last name, I live in Ohio,**" he looked blankly**, "you know, a state in America." **

"**I see,"** he clearly didn't, **"I must admit that I have never heard of this O-hi-o or the Ameericah." **A little honesty is always good, but seriously did he live under a rock. Not being snotty or anything, but everyone knows what America is it's a major world power.

"**I have studied many maps and have never heard of such a land even in the Harad but that can wait. For it seems the real question is how did you get here?"** He asked in a patient tone.

I was a little startled that he had never heard of America, but judging from the state of him he was probably senile or so far into his fairy tale medieval life that he was completely oblivious to the real world.** "I know it sounds weird, but I was just walking to my bus on the way to a track meet when everything just went dark. When I woke up I was in the middle of the woods and that's where Olin found me. I don't even know where "here" is."**

Radagast surprisingly didn't look to unsettled by this **"I guessed that things were not what they seemed when I saw you. For to be honest my lady you are dressed in a fashion in which no maiden in any land I've seen would dress."** Was that a snub? I think I just received a snubbing. I was a little affronted by that comment, it's the 20th century what's wrong with sweatpants and a t-shirt, but I didn't interrupt. **"You are at this current time deep in the wooded foothills of the Hithaeglir, or in the common tongue the Misty Mountains. The Ford of Bruinen runs nearby and the fabled Elven village of Rivendell is but a four day journey from this very dwelling."**

I was dumbstruck. If we were really wherever the heck he said then how was I going to get home, home wasn't even on the map! **"So you say you have never heard of America and what continent did you say we were on."** He looked a little bit confused **"I do not understand what the meaning of continent is, but the whole land mass is called Arda."**

What was he talking about? Arda, elves, did they resemble those that dwell in the North Pole, and I couldn't get over his stiff, formal speech. My mind was in an epic battle that most likely involved ninjas and pirates. I had to trust these people, they were the only ones out here and they had been kind and honest so far… as I knew. Look at them they were ridiculous, come on who dresses like this they could have at least carried wands or pretended they were royalty. But, then again if this is how they truly lived, and Olin and Durvin had proved to me that they did not have their heads in the clouds they were always active and vigilant, how strange did I look to them. I was not used to sleeping outside, wearing old fashioned clothing, and I certainly had not acquired the life skill of peeing in the woods.

The battle was over, oh man you should have seen it… anyhooo. I realized that I was very far from home, this was not a hoax it was just too natural, and I was not dreaming. The only choice I had was to believe them and accept at least that I was in some remote island and press onward. Hadn't I always longed for adventure? In my mind I broke out into the Sound of Music song "I Have Confidence." That was needed, confidence boost.

I had forgotten about the others who were looking at me in quiet concern. Oh right, **"Ok Radagast, I believe you. I still have no idea where Arda is, but it's clearly no place I've ever heard of and I don't know how I got here either."**

He looked thoughtful **"It is very rare, but not unheard of,"** he had a mischievous twinkle in his eye that confused me, **"The valar have been known to send beings into Arda to secure a safe future, though your task is a mystery since you say that nothing was revealed to you before your passing into Middle Earth, but you may rest assured Illuvatar never does anything without a purpose."**

Wa wa wee wa. Did he just say Middle Earth, excuse me this is Earth, plain old Earth, **"Do you mean Earth, because that is the planet that I'm from."** I said a little warily.

"**Oh no, I meant exactly what I said young Lady Eileen, but it seems we are finally getting somewhere. You are obviously not from anywhere here. That was clear enough from your clothes, not to mention your speech." **He was looking quite satisfied at his conclusion, but I was in a state of turmoil. But on he pressed, **"I think it is clear to assume that you are truly from another land and maybe even space. The Valar or even Iluvatar surely had a hand in this."**

So he basically just told me God had sent me traveling through the galaxy and possibly to another dimension and the angels were probably involved too. **"I don't mean to offend, but is there any way you can prove this theory, because from my point of view a forest and some people in ancient clothing does not necessarily conclude intergalactic travel."**

He thought for a second before his eyes lit up. **"From your surprise at Olin and Durvin, am I wrong to assume that the only race of peoples in your land is human?"** I nodded, well that was a gimme. "**In Arda you have just met three beings that are not of the human race**." I stared at him dumbly** "Your two companions here Olin and Folin are of the ancient race of dwarves, created before humans at the time of the elves. They have a lifespan over double that of humans, living up to 250 years. And I am a wizard, a being that takes the form of a human but has special powers and immortality like that of the Elven kind." **

I was trying to take in all this information, when I suddenly remembered a way to test this **"Can you tell me what **_**Khazad **_**means."** I had him, I knew that was what Olin had told me he was, so it surely meant was along the line of human or small human.

He laughed jovially, **"You are shrewd! Yes Eileen, I can tell you what **_**Khazad **_**means. It means dwarf in Khuzdul, the language of those people. In fact if the things you have witnessed so far have not proven that you are in fact in Middle Earth then Rivendell will surely put any doubt to rest. For you must surely travel there after your stay here is over and seek the council of Gandalf, a most wise wizard, and Elrond, Half Elven Lord."**

I was stunned, this was way too crazy to be real, but who would put this much effort into a cruel trick and a madman would never be acting this normal. This was the truth, the cold hard truth. I was in another planet possible another time, dimension even. I took to studying my beat up Sperry's. **"You have learned much in such a short time. Let us speak again of this tomorrow. Today is for merrymaking to celebrate the arrival of such admirable guests!" **He turned to Olin and Durvin to quickly brief them on my situation. They were both looking as stunned as I was when Radagast left the room to get supplies for the "merrymaking."

So the mystery was solved. I was stuck in some place called Middle Earth and with no clear means of returning home to my family and friends. I didn't want to think about that right know it might choke me up and I absolutely hate crying in front of people. It's just awkward for everyone.

Half of my mind still could not accept this was real, I mean how could it be it was just too bizarre. This is what happens in movies and drug induced songs not in real life. Hopefully this confusion will go away with time.

Olin and Durvin were talking with each other. There was something pleasant about their rough language, not _Westron_. It was strange to hear at first, but it had a homey, earthy feel to it that was comforting.

I had begun to pick up on the rudiments of their language and to recognize many of the ancient, strangely beautiful sounding words.

_"Olin,"_ then I did a searching motion with my hand on my forehead looking to and fro, "_pack._"

He smiled _"Very good, I'm glad you are remembering well."_ Then he said slowly, "_Olin__, where is my pack_." I was used to this repeat after me process and tested out the new phrase, trying to brand it into my memory.

I was hoping that we might have to go out to the back and retrieve Patrick, and in the meantime pet all the horses, but it was not to be. Olin had taken all our bags upstairs so he just went up and got them. When he came down with my blue and purple checkered backpack and hugged it fiercly.

I looked at the dirty surface reverently. This mud splattered Jansport now held all the belongings I had in the world. They weren't much, but every scrap of paper and textbook attested that I was really from Limburg, Ohio. That tiny little hole in the ground town. All I had left now was a few pens and pencils, a calculator, an mp3 player, chapstick, two notebooks, one small German textbook, and a European history textbook. This textbook was the most precious thing to me. It promised me in words that America was real and testified that I was not insane to believe it was.

They had kept my backpack on Patrick for the past few days because Durvin was still a little wary that I might be keeping some secret weapons or something and he hadn't taken to well to my mp3 player either. Which I had mournfully been banned from using after Durvin had seen it light up and proceeded to run around yelling "_Witchcraft! Witchcraft!"_

Speaking of Patrick where did all the animals go. They must have been weirded out by all the strangers, but they were magically efficient at disappearing. I stroked my chin meditatively. I might have one or two things to learn about their ninja ways.

I looked around the room to get it properly imprinted in my memory. From the outside one would think it was primitive on the inside because the exterior of the house almost blended in with the woods. But it was really beautiful. The cobblestone walls were softened by cloth tapestries of flowers and animals and the wooden floor had a big fur rug on it. There were book shelves next to the walls that also held various knickknacks and the room was cozily adorned with small wooden stumps tables holding statues of animals. There was a large hearth in the room and a small fire was already steadily burning. Olin and Durvin were sitting in ornate wooden chairs near the fire. The room had large glass paned windows on the door side and I noted that the apparently small cottage actually carried back in to hill behind it because peering down the hall Radagast went into I could see there was at least five more rooms, possibly more. In this same hall I saw a set of stairs that led up and down.

I walked over to Olin and Durvin, plopping down in an empty chair and realizing, to my joy, that it had a plush cushion. I then dumped my backpack on the floor next to me. After tramping around the woods for three days with no rest except for a few hours of disturbed sleep on the lumpy ground you could properly dub Radagast's cottage heaven.

If there was ever a place to be horribly lost this would be it.

With such wonderful thoughts I suddenly realized that I had to pee. Over the past few days this was a horrifying prospect. Having to awkwardly ask Olin and Durvin to go to the "bathroom" via the potty dance every few hours before they taught me the word and then walking as far as possible away from them without getting lost. Luckily I had gone camping several times to know the ropes of what would next happen, but that still didn't make the process any easier.

Now all I had to do was wait patiently for Radagast to get back and ask him by way of mind powers… or just the new word _"Bathroom."_ Either way I do hope he gets back soon cause when you gotta go when you gotta go. On that subject, where in Merlin's beard is he, at Target? He's been gone for like twenty minutes.

On cue he popped out from the hallway… carrying two small barrels and several pipes. Now I felt genuinely confused. And even more so when Olin and Durvin started cheering and talking excitedly.

"_Ahh, Radagast I have not had a smoke on a good pipe for far too long. That I believe is the worst loss of journeys. No leaf and no beer."_ Exclaimed Durvin.

Radagast plopped the barrels down on the wooden table across from my chair and I looked at it curiously and noted suspiciously that the larger of the two had a cork stuck in it.

Radagast then plucked the top off the smaller barrel to reveal small, brown, shriveled up leaves. He handed pipes to Olin and Durvin who were eagerly grabbing at the leaves.

"**Do you smoke my lady?"** Radagast asked a little shyly. I looked at him incredulously **"No."**

He nodded quickly and rather embarrassingly added, **"I did not think a proper lady like you would. Do not be troubled I merely asked out of the duties of a courteous host. I did not know the customs of your land."**

I felt a little guilty about snapping at him, after all I knew plenty of kids my age who were smoking. But, seriously did he actually expect me to talk some random tobacco from him and it even looked more like marijuana. I nodded and smiled at him giving him an "it's all good" look.

I looked over at the fire to see it presently being attacked by Olin and Durvin who were plunging their pipes into it to light them.

Then Radagast went over to the cabinet and picked up four neat looking wooden mugs with images carved on them. He handed me one and on a closer look I could see mine had a scene of horses running across a field. It looked handcrafted and better than anything even the Indian stores in Canada had to offer.

Olin and Durvin were looking like two kids in a candy store, puffing away at their pipes and admiring the craftsmanship of the mugs.

Radagast unplugged the top of the larger barrel and the scent of alcohol floated out. Olin and Durvin eagerly put their mugs on the table as I clutched mine to my chest, they best not be thinkin of gettin me drunk!

Radagast saw me and took the hint not to not even ask if I wanted any liquor. Seriously who were these people, breaking out the ale and pipes. I concluded their idea of "merrymaking" wasn't far from a college frat party.

Olin and Durvin were now comfortably settled with their beer and pipes and though this was a strange new event to me when I saw them something just clicked. They looked perfectly at ease and instead of this occasion being uncomfortable and nerve racking for me it seemed perfectly natural and normal. Radagast was thoughtfully smoking his pipe and watching the sun set through the big window.

Oh man I almost forgot I needed to wee. This has been far too exciting for me. **"Hey Radagast can you direct me to the bathroom, please."**

"**Through the hall, third on the right my dear." **

"**Thanks."**

I walked through the hall peering a little in the other rooms. Besides the staircase I found there was another sitting room, a study, and a small closet before I reached the third room on the right.

Oh glorious. There was no sweeter sight than this ancient toilet to me. Already stated, the bathroom was a little out of date and was heavily scented with lavender. It had toilet paper, or more properly little pieces of cloth, and the toilet was basically a big stone bowl with a hole in the middle and a pipe leading presumably, hopefully, outside. There was a pitcher next the toilet that I found was the source of the lavender smell. After I was done with my business I poured some water down the toilet to "flush" it and then turned to the washbasin and washed my hands. The drying towel was apparently designed to hold as little water as possible and I left drying my hands on my shirt, which wasn't that satisfactory as I had worn it for three days straight. Nasty, the next thing I need to find is the laundry room, which I had a bad feeling wouldn't be powered by electricity.

When I got back to the sitting room Olin and Durvin were mildly drunk and singing songs. Radagast was laughing merrily.

For the next hour or so they taught me a few new words in their drunken stupor such as "_pipe," "malt beer," "mug," "pipeweed," _and _"smoke." _It was good fun I have to admit and I am happy to report that both Olin and Durvin were happy drunks.

I was even taught a few jigs and my ineptitude won many hearty laughs from the furry pair and Radagast.

After all this fun Radagast led me and the two stumbling dwarves upstairs to our rooms. They were in the two rooms across the hall from me. I entered my cozy little room and looked joyously upon the bed.

"Where have you been all my life?"

A bed, yes a real fluffy, warm bed with a big blanket. I chucked my backpack onto the floor, slammed the door shut, and squealed with delight as I hurled myself onto the bed before settling in and falling into a wonderfully rock free sleep. And I had lots of dreams, which I love by the way, full of weird undersea adventures that turned into me flying around over a field with a hamster. That's the stuff. Always so eventful and the best thing is dreams never seem weird at the time they fit together perfectly. You always think oh yes that's perfectly normal that an octopus just turned into a flying hamster.


	4. Getting Down With the Customs

_As if any of you needed a reminder i don't own Lord of the Rings or any of Tolkien's other brain chillens._

_A/N This chapter has so more about the customs that Eileen has been plunged into. Never fear the story will be moving along soon i just have to establish the basics. Read and review. _

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**Ch. 4: Getting Down with the Customs**

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I was sleeping soundly when someone started prodding my shoulder. "Mmmm, get out. I'm sleeping" I grumbled groggily.

The shaking continued but more persistently. I lifted up my arm and wagged my hand "Shoo. Its Saturday, I don't have school today." That was a lie, but mistakes have been made.

Besides why in the world would Olin, Durvin, or Radagast wake me up at such an ungodly hour of the day.

"_Wake, wake. The soldier that rises before the sun beats all the rest to the rum." _

Someone sang in a booming voice. What is that incoherent rabble. The someone then started banging on various objects "_You are a steady sleeper. I thought you were an owl on the road, but now I see you were merely a picky one." _

I threw the blankets off and looked up angrily at the happy face of Durvin. That devil, what possessed him to wake me up.

"Fine, I'm up. Happy now. Get outa here I gotta change." I shooed him away with both hands as I clumsily sat up. He was disgustingly cheerful as he walked out humming happily.

What is with these people and waking up all happy. Even in the woods they woke up bright and cheery at at least 7 AM.

I attempted to get out of bed before becoming tangled up in my blankets and falling in a heap on the floor with a bang and a shout.

"_Everything alright, young lass." _Durvin called in his deep voice from the hall.

"_I am safe."_ I shouted recognizing "_alright_" as some form of concern and having already adopted the nicknames "_young lass" _and _"little bird."_

Already in a sour mood I picked myself out of the heap of blankets and looked around the room.

Following his previous nature oriented taste I was not surprised to see my room was basically a shrine to all creatures that fly. My bed posts were shaped like eagles and the candle on my nightstand was in the shape of a crane. About the room there were little wooden carvings of birds and other such decorations. There was a circular shaped window so my room must have been at the front of the house.

Anyways it was safe to say that Radagast had what I would call an obsession with animals and nature, not that it's a bad obsession. It's one of the better things people or wizards could be obsessed with.

I had a little washbasin that was, surprise, shaped like a bird bath with little stone birds in it. At least there was no fake bird poop.

I crawled over to this sink, got up, and splashed my face violently with water. I then stumbled about blindly before finally running into the bed and drying my face off on my blanket.

I sat on by bed and hauled my backpack up.

Aww man, why did I get my hopes up that Durvin would just put my mp3player back into my bag where I could get to it again.

This little setback couldn't deter me long from my impending hyperness. So naturally I just resolved to get it from him using brainpower or violence.

I looked down at my dirt streaked sweatshirt in sorrow and then my sweatpants that looked like they were supposed to be brown not blue. Lamenting the blackening edge of my sweats I ripped them off and made a little pile in the corner of my bird room. My track shirt, undershirt, and shorts did not look that bad but man did they smell bad. A mixture of sweat, dirt, and blood, haha just kidding no blood, though it would be more hardcore. I should think about that next time.

I gingerly put my greasy hair up in a ponytail, that would need to be taken care of quickly, and inhaled the fresh smell of donkey that still clung to me before embarking on the quest to find my companions.

I opened my doors and looked both ways making sure no one was out there. Then I slid out and made a finger gun. I inched along the hall marveling at my own stealth.

"_Eileen, there you are we were wondering what took you so long_" Olin commented calmly.

My eyes bulged and I was sure I was about to have a heart attack. "Watch out there coming! No nook or cranny is safe!"

I quickly regaining my composure, pressed a hand against my chest, and looked inquiringly up at Olin who was looking at me strangely.

"_It-it is good to see you up and well, though I have to admit your attire is a little lacking in covering you." _He said hesitatingly. I noticed he was trying to look anywhere but my legs and then I knew. No he wasn't a closet legophobic, these people obviously didn't wear shorts even if the shorts in question were nearly knee length athletic ones. Hey, if he's got a problem with my shorts than he can shove it, I'm comfy.

I pushed past him and descended the stairs and he followed a little ruffled. When I reached the hall I was stumped however and saw my daring imitative was at an end.

"_direction"_ I questioned.

He chuckled, he liked doing that, and then led me outside to, get excited, the backyard or side yard if you will.

Upon entering Durvin clasped his hands over his face and Radagast looked mildly bewildered.

"**I risk the danger of humiliating you my dear, but it seems you have not completed dressing yourself." **

One eyebrow shot up **"I am perfectly attired, thank you. Some women in my country wear their pants up to here." **And at that I brought my hand down at my upper thigh.

He looked a little disturbed at this, but he was a pretty laid back kinda guy **"Well, you have been compliant with our customs, I see no need for us to hinder yours however unorthodox they may be, but see this my young friend they will not be so lenient in Rivendell." **He nodded his head wisely for an added effect.

I didn't know showing a little skin would produce such a fuss, lordy. **"Sorry I was so brash Radagast, but I just couldn't wear those filthy pants" **then I held up my mud caked sweat pants.

"**Oh, I see. You are quite right. The washing stream is just beyond the stables."**

I didn't like the sound of that, what in the world was a washing stream. Time to find out. As I was walking by it seemed Olin and Durvin had gotten the gist of what I was going to do so they had run back and returned panting to dump a heap of dirty clothes in my arms.

"_Thank you lass." _Olin panted cheerfully.

"_I knew the little bird had more in her than chirping out words." _Durvin clapped my back gratefully.

Muttering darkly I trudged past the ponies and horses, patting a few of them before I reached what looked to be an ancient paddle, a rack, a hunky bar of soap, and a stream. Okay…

Luckily I'd seen _Snow White_ so I knew the ropes… kind of.

My feeble hope that woodland creatures would suddenly appear and help me with my washing was in vain. Luckily the washing stream was quite some distance from the house and secluded by thick woods so I took off my shirt and shorts and began to wash them, I had spandex and a sports bra on so I wasn't in the nude. I spent the next two hours scrubbing all the clothes with the chunky soup, whacking them with the paddle, and rubbing them against the rack, and then finishing them off by rinsing them in the stream. My clothes still looked a bit brown, but smelled nice and were mostly clean so I concluded this torture session and instead started jumping around in the stream, and yes it was highly enjoyable.

I walked back in my sopping wet shorts and t-shirt with a pile of wet, but clean clothes in my arms.

Next a shower, lasting at least forty five minutes.

I skipped back over to Radagast

"**Can you direc-"**

"**I have three baths set up for all of you, in separate rooms of course. Yours is in the small vegetable kitchen, it's the first door on the left." **He answered a little distractedly as he was busy with a particularly large brown horse. I could have kissed him with the glorious news he had just imparted to me, but instead I just draped the clothes over a string the hung across the yard.

I sprinted to my next destination and gazed with awe upon the tub.

No time to lose. I slammed the door, locked it, or rather stuck a piece of wood across it, and got undressed.

Ahhh, I slipped into the warm water and just sat there for a good fifteen minutes. I then began to examine my washing materials. There was a rather daunting looking wire brush, another chunky bar of soap, and a bottle of scented stuff that I took for shampoo. I scrubbed myself with the hard brush wincing every so often. I poured some water into a small bucket and scrubbed my undergarments as well.

I scrubbed my scalp raw while pouring the nice smelling stuff into it and dunked into the water which was slightly brown when I got up out of it. I dried off and wrapped my hair turban style in a small towel. After getting back into my clothes I sat down on the floor satisfactorily and took off the turban and began to stroke my now soft, straight hair. Just as it should be, never again will I neglect you so, for both our sakes.

After my slightly insane conversation with my hair I got up and walked back outside to properly address the ponies. Which came in a variety of colors and were, of course, adorable. The horses were also stunning and like any girl I was in heaven petting them all on the noses and feeding them grass.


	5. Rediscovery

_I do not own Lord of the Rings or any of Tolkien's works_

_A/N Hey I'm finally getting to the meat of my story, preferably ham. Never fear i am pretty sure Boromir will be making his cameo soon probably next chapter, hurrah. _

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**Ch. 5: Rediscovery**

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The hot, October day was drawing on and my grayish blue eyes roamed over the bluer sky as I rode atop my new cream colored horse, courtesy of Radagast. I believe he was a Palomino, but I'm no horse expert so I wouldn't bank on it. I had named him Herbert because first of all that name is just awesome and also I felt it was necessary to name him because he and I were two peas in a pod and a little bonding wouldn't do any harm. Besides, I think that animals like to be called names just as much as humans do.

Olin and Durvin were riding steeds of their own. Cute little "_war mounts_" ponies, as Durvin firmly told me. His was a sturdy, little, dark brown bay and Olin's was a lively chestnut with rich color.

Naturally I had forced Durvin and Olin to name their ponies as well, but I found that I didn't need to prod them too much. Durvin named his bay Kusur and Olin dubbed his chestnut Bumli.

I thought they were pretty funny names, but then again they probably thought Herbert was a funky name too so whatevs. I was secretly in love with the name Bumli though I soon made it not so secret by announcing this information.

Anyways back to my point, if there ever was any. It was a pretty hot day and we were just trotting along in the forest so I had ample time to think back on our week at Radagast's cottage.

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Radagast had taught me a lot. Mainly a bunch of small customs like don't climb trees it's un-ladylike, don't run it's un-ladylike, don't eat too fast it's un-ladylike, don't jump on the bed it's un-ladylike, don't sneak attack Durvin it's un-ladylike, don't yell it's un-ladylike, don't spit it's un-ladylike, and you get the point. These rules, though graciously delivered by Radagast, I received with the full intent to still go about my merry way in my merry way. Plus there was no possible way I could give up climbing trees let alone running and sneak attacks, it was simply out of the question.

There were some more useful things he taught me and he was delighted by my keen interest in animals. He taught me about horses and the rudiments of how to handle and ride them, I had some prior knowledge in this field as, like many a girl, I had taken horse riding lessons for about a year when I was a wee thing. He also showed me a great deal of his forest friends and how one would go about approaching them, I'll tell you it involved lots of crackers and clicking noises.

He was an avid herbologist, no not a Hogwarts professor, he knew lots of plants and what-not and he imparted some of his wisdom in this area onto me, though I have to admit I didn't retain this info very much.

I had also learned a great deal more of their language "_Westron_" which I guess tends to happen when you are thrown into a foreign land where that is the main language. I now talked with the vocab of a five year old versus a two year old and besides talking my points of weakness were long or fast conversations.

But there was one event in particular that I kept turning over in my mind.

The day before our departure Radagast had pulled me aside to take a walk with him, which was no biggy because we did this everyday to learn about plants. But I knew something was up today because he seemed a little distracted.

"**Eileen, I have made many mistakes in my life," **he started somberly, **"I was originally sent to Arda by the Valar. You see I am a Maia and was not born here, but was sent in the form you now see me so that the men, dwarves, and elves would trust me. The Valar entrusted five of us to guide the races of Middle Earth in the fight against the growing power of Sauron, the Deceiver."**

I was a little lost with the abrupt start of this conversation and was trying to remember all the terminology, but I nodded to him to continue.

"**But you see I have failed. Yavanna had sent me to protect her creations, but instead I have become so obsessed with them that I have thrown aside my task and become just as vulnerable as that which I would strive to protect. Saruman, ever my friend and companion, is destroying the beloved trees of Fangorn and not only am I powerless to his treachery but in my blindness I have even aided him."**

He was taking all this very hard and as he hung his head in shame I patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

"**He is no longer Saruman the white, but Saruman of many colors who bends and twists the light to his will. But there is one way I may redeem myself. I find that I am not a being of war and power, for my command lies in caring and study, but I could appoint another. I have thought much over this week and decided I need one who realizes that humans are merely one part of the great sphere of life, one who will not seek to dominate but to work with the land, and one who feels akin to the wild things of the world."**

Then he gave me this intense look and I could almost feel his eyes boring into my soul. I know, it was weird.

"**You must be the one to carry on my mission."**

He held his hands out to me.

"**Come here child."**

I looked at him questioningly.

"**I must give you my blessing and the blessing of Yavanna."**

I stepped forward cautiously.

He laid his hands atop my head and started to spout of something in what seemed to be one long musical note. The words took shape in my head. Flowers bloomed before my eyes, the earth called to me and pulled gently at my feet, the sunlight penetrated my skin and pulsed with my blood streaming through my veins, the rocks bellowed out the story of the earth, and the trees wailed aloud lamenting their demise.

The hands were removed and I stumbled back gasping. I felt like I had just been plunged under water.

I was shaking and gulped in the crisp air. The forest was as silent and the sun had retreated.

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Suddenly, Herbert jolted as he sidestepped a rock and my reflection was interrupted. I looked around at all the quiet forest. I shook my head. For now I would just focus on getting to Rivendell. Where Olin and Durvin where going to relay their secret message about Saruman's betrayal and I would hopefully be getting help as to what I was going to do now that I was stuck in Middle Earth.


	6. Full Immersion

_Disclaimer As Usual i don't own any of Tolkien's works_

_A/N You ready for this ba ba da da dum da dum ba ba da da dadum. Oh excuse me just broke into the space jam song. Finally Boromir has made his cameo. Oh btw I'm using the more bookish appearance of Boromir, even though Sean Bean is amazing. I do use a lot of the movie descriptions for the surroundings and clothing though. Wow there is a huge misunderstanding in this chapter and get ready for some upcoming excitement and never fear because i love hobbits so i will be including them in my Rivendell scenes. I also love music so be prepared for lots of music in the rest of the story. __Thank you to my reviewers milk and cookies for all. Read and Review, i beg of you , it really is a motivator.__ I will be answering all reviewers from now on, even previous ones._

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**Ch. 6: Full Immersion**

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Herbert's cream coat glistened with sweat in the midday heat. We were traveling under trees, but it was still a sweltering October day. Two more days on the road and I was beginning to doubt that there was such a thing as a short trip in this place.

I thought with a shudder how much longer it would take if we were traveling on foot. I looked over at Patrick, that sturdy little donkey had my backpack slung over him and various other packs hanging from his sides.

The trip was much better than my first one to Radagast's cottage by mile. Olin and Durvin were no longer suspicious of me and I was comfortable around them. Between the two of them they knew a bounty of songs and would often sing to pass the time. They taught me a couple of the songs along the way. I had always been pretty shy about singing around other people but for some reason they really helped me open up in that aspect, but I would still be terribly embarrassed to sing in front of anyone else.

I could tell most of the songs were in a different language than "_Westron_" because I had learned its basic phonetic structures and whatnot. Olin had told me that these songs were in "_Khuzdul_."

"_Olin_," I started in my ragged Westron_, "when do journey end."_ I must have said this phrase about a hundred times so there was no excuse for my bad grammar there.

"_Hopefully in a few hours, in earnest we are not entirely sure where Imladris is. Radagast provided us with a passable estimate of its whereabouts, but now that we are so close there is no telling precisely when we will arrive."_ He said cheerfully.

I was able to pick up on enough to get the gist of what he was saying and nodded darkly. So, basically we're lost.

"_I think we might be found before we do the finding."_ Durvin stated. I didn't miss the dark suspicion in his voice or his nervous sideways glance.

A few hours later and it was getting dark. I shivered a little bit in my plain t-shirt before pulling my sweatshirt over my head.

The sun was a red ball of fire as it slowly sank out of the sky and I suddenly felt nervous. I looked around, I had never been one for premonitions but I swear that the earth was just pulsing with anticipation. I looked over at my two companions and could see that only Durvin was a little tense. Olin on the other hand was happily humming away.

They were upon us like thunder in a clear sky; oh I was just waiting to say something really cool like that. But of course outside of my head I was about to pee in my pants. That seemed to be a recurring feeling here.

A couple of tall dark haired men had surrounded our mini caravan and they looked like they meant business. My initial terror subsided as I took in their appearance.

Hot mama, they were fine. Tall with prefect chiseled features, a little feminine in fact. Not exactly my type, but you can't be too picky in these dark times.

I, on the other hand, probably looked very much like fish at that moment.

"_What business do you have in the realm of Elrond Half-Elven King, dwarves"_ Demanded the "leader," a tall man who had long, shiny, black hair with a thin braid running down the left side. Looking him full up and down, which took a little while because he was well over six feet tall, I noted that there was definitely something off about him and the other two men he was with. There was something about them that I couldn't put my finger on, they were beautiful, no not handsome, and they had this ethereal, glowing feeling to them. Besides that any other person would have made noise if they ran up on us like that, which means Olin, Durvin, and I would have heard them long before they approached. Then I had a wild idea.

"Do you happen to have an invisibility cloak," I asked nonchalantly, "and if so may I borrow it."

My innocent question gained me three fierce gazes from the model captors. I tried to sink into Herbert's saddle and silently willed them to turn their dark eyes away from me.

"_Who is this strange mortal with you, what is her tongue, where lies her allegiance."_ The particularly stern looking dark brown haired man next to Olin questioned.

"_Greetings, we come on behalf of Radagast the Brown to speak to Elrond Half-Elven King, though never in all my years have I been greeted thus." _Durvin piped up sharply. _"And this is a human we met lost in the woods and who is a pupil of Radagast the Brown."_

The elves still regarded our trio with suspicion, "_Do not think ill of the last homely house, but in such dark times we are always wary of strangers and it is highly unusual for two dwarves to be traveling with a human." _The leader addressed us, _"I am Daugon and my two companions are Faelon and Glandur, we are the night guard. You are just outside the walls of Imladris, travelers, we will guide you back."_

I was straining my ears to understand what the heck they were talking about when Olin and Durvin started following them into the woods. No time to get cold-feet now, I prodded Herbert forward.

About an hour later and I was bored. The excitement from earlier had trickled away about forty-five minutes ago and now my train of thought was going all over the place. I was thinking about those crazy monkeys in the wizard of oz that fly around and are terrifying, which led to spiders which I hate and then I started thinking about my fourth grade teacher who was a really skinny, scary, spidery-looking, old woman.

Before I knew it we had a view of the most beautiful place I have ever seen complete with a waterfall.

"Finally, the Emerald City!" I exclaimed.

Naturally the perfect men ignored me and the leader commented, _"Behold the fabled beauty of Imladris, travelers, the jewel of the West."_

"_Tis a sight of magnificence, it nearly rivals the halls of the lonely mountain."_ Did I detect a hint of pride mixed in with Durvin's awe, I think so.

"_Lead the journey dwarf."_ I was eager to see this structure up close, I love to look at architecture and home decorations, it's weird I can't help it.

The elves looked highly affronted at my request for some reason, touchy, touchy. But Olin and Durvin were stifling chuckles and I looked inquiringly at them.

"_Elves, young lass,_" Olin said with sparkling eyes as he pointed at the men, _"We are dwarves."_ He then pointed at Durvin and himself. He turned to Daugon, _"Please accept my apologies, she is still learning Westron."_

"_That is what arises when you trust a dwarf to teach Westron."_ Faelon muttered under his breath and Durvin shot him a dirty look.

Ahh, I see I have committed a serious faux paux that may have also involved name calling, but I shrugged. These things tend to happen to me.

We continued on the path to the city and I looked around in awe as we trotted through the entrance arch.

They were more of these "_elves"_ inside and they were all just as perfect, be assured I felt supremely inferior when I saw the women. I tried not to focus on my dirty clothes, face, and hair in the presence of these goddesses.

I also saw two more dwarves over in a courtyard chatting. They saw us and hailed Olin and Durvin over, taking little notice of me. We dismounted and left the horses in the care of Daugon.

I suddenly felt very nervous, "_Olin, who are elves"_

"_Oh, I thought that Radagast told you they are one of the three races. The first born are they and gifted with immortality."_ He told me.

Now the information Radagast had told me only a few days ago flooded back. Of course it all fit, they were beautiful, silent, graceful, and had that "immortal" air about them. Needless to say I was even more intimidated now. At least around the dwarves I could act normal, these people didn't even leave me the connection of mortality.

Olin and Durvin were greeted by the other dwarves and their names were flown at me and mine was flown back. They were short and quite easy to remember, there was Gloin, an ancient looking dwarf, and his son Gimli.

They were busy catching up and started talking rapidly in Khuzdul so I was completely lost. As usual I looked around for something of interest but now I found a multitude of beautiful landscapes and structures to appease me. I saw more elves and then I saw an elf looking curiously on at us. Except he was most definitely not an elf, he was not perfect looking like them. But he was pretty high up on all the human standards. He was a ruggedly handsome, tall, bear-sized man.

Was I drooling, must… stop… looking.

This is embarrassing, pull yourself together woman.

I pried me eyes away and pretended like I was just once more casually scanning my surroundings.

I could still see him, early or possibly mid thirties, wearing a red tunic and a fur lined cloak. He had a full sized round sled propped up against his leg, wait that can't be right...No, no it must be a bag or shield or something. His hand was settled on the hilt of his sword as he leaned against a pillar and his shoulder length black hair was slightly disheveled. Broad-chested, straight nose, a short beard, keen grey eyes… To sum it all up he was basically a Greek god.

I was now more nervous than ever, if that is possible, because on top of all the immortals running around this place there is a hot guy staring at me. And I probably look like a mess not to mention I am standing around a bunch of furry midgets.

My mind raged back. Those fury midgets are my firends and who cares what anyone else thinks. Take that self conscious Eileen.

Olin took pity on my probably confusion stricken face and before I knew it I was being whisked away to my new room. Which I can tell you I walked to with pride, my head held high, in my dirty and ripped sweatpants and tee between two beautiful she-elves in floor length satin gowns.

The two female elves led me through a maze of hallways that passed in a blur as I had to almost jog to keep up their long strides. I was so used to the stubby little dwarf strides that I could leisurely walk with. The tables had turned.

Unfortunately since my group was unexpected I was split off from the dwarves so not only was I in this new place, but I was temporarily on my own.

My two elf escorts were really nice and not at all the snobs that Durvin had hinted that elves were. The taller black haired one, Erulisse, was very graceful and quiet, but Mirima, the one with lighter brown hair, was very outgoing and chattered a bit to me before I made it clear I could not understand her fast pace.

They led me to, like everything in Rivendell, a beautiful, spacious, and nature looking room. It had a couple of plush chairs, a fancy looking reclining couch, a wash bowl, and the best of all a queen sized bed with a canopy. Upon entering the bright room I paused and then flung myself onto the bed.

Mirima giggled and Erulisse made a disconcerted yelp.

As I was busy hugging the pillows the two elleths left me to sleep unhindered and filthy.

The next day I woke up to see them suddenly emerge from behind a curtain next to the wash basin and reemerged toting a metal wash tub similar to the one I used in Radagast's place. I was too groggy to be that surprised and just looked at them. Time for a well earned bath I suppose. Mirima scurried away behind the curtain again to retrieve soap, a scrub brush, a cloth, and two bottles of what I excitedly hoped to be shampoo and conditioner. I was wide awake with that glorious prospect.

They motioned me over and Erulisse took me through the ropes. _"Here is your bath, we will return shortly with your bath water. This"_ she held up the bottle of cream stuff with black specks in it "_is for your hair. Put it in first_" she held up one finger _"Scrub thoroughly_" Mirima provided me with an imitation of scrubbing, _"and then repeat with this._" She then held up two fingers and the other bottle of white soap.

I nodded quickly. What did they take me for some kind of mountain women who had never seen hair cleaning products? Oh well, I guess they can never be too careful in this hotel city.

The two left and before I could take off my shoes a whole procession of people came into my room. Did I miss the invitation to a party in my own room. Then I noticed they were all carrying big jugs whose contents were being dumped into my tub.

Oh, too true, my bath.

Just as quickly as they came they were gone and only Mirima, Erulisse, and I were left. They shifted uncomfortably as they watched me. "Um, are you guys gonna leave any time soon, or are we having tea and crumpets first?"

They looked mildly bewildered before I added, "_Thank you, I stay… you go_." Silently apologizing with my eyes for my poor Westron.

Mirima laughed a little and they both looked relieved as they walked out of the room. I was slightly disturbed contemplating that they probably thought I was mentally or physically incapable of taking a bath on my own.

My troubles soon melted away as I sunk down into the bath and commenced to scrubbing three days of riding through the woods out of my skin and hair.

Now the tricky part, I had been avoiding this since I first entered the room, but know deemed it safe since I was clean and in a state to hopefully not wilt compared to the elleths. I shut my eyes tightly and moved to the mirror clutching the towel around me.

I opened them… and was happy to find I was not terrified by a monster peering back at me.

My pale skin had not tanned at all, which I had not expected even with the amount of exposure I had endured, but my light brown hair did have a lot more blond in it which I happily thought would look even lighter when my hair was completely dry. A set of steady grey-blue eyes peered out of a round face with chubby cheeks. A couple freckles were perceptible and I noted with satisfaction the one hidden in my left eyebrow and I passed a glance over my average nose and moderately full ips. It's funny how a mirror never really tells you what you want to know the most, if you're pretty or not. You just see shapes and lines. People said I was pretty though and I guess I concurred.

I thought dismally of the stunning elves as I saw my human, average face and my less than ideal figure. They were tall, willowy, and graceful. Whereas my days spent in solitude had shaved off a few pounds but instead of making me look slimmer and more fit, it just made me look a little bit more scrawny and pole-like.

But thinking back on the elves I think I had a more vivacious and bright look that they, with all their glow, just didn't seem to fit at all, let alone have. And I consoled myself with the thought that I could never imagine Erulisse climb a tree or running in her bare feet.

Enough of this!

I whipped open the dresser and tried on a nice looking, but strangely thin, white dress. Hmmm, I may need to check up on Mirima about the nice warm dresses.

I took one looked at the cutesy looking shoes before slamming the door on them.

Don't think so.

So I flounced out the door with damp hair, this weird dress, and bare feet. It was warm though so it was all good.

The long hallway only contained about four doors, which I rationalized was due to the large area of the rooms, oh and did I mention the rooms had balconies! Yeah, I got real excited. I also noted that there was absolutely no one anywhere and I was content to obliviously wander around for the next hour or so.

Of course in the most inopportune time a gorgeous guy comes walking out of a room. Ooh, dark wavy hair, stubble, lean, and tall. He glanced at me strangely, which brought to my attention his deep grey eyes. Naturally I was terrified of talking to anyone attractive of the opposite sex and discretely dashed behind a bush.

"Oh, haha" I tried to laugh but it came across as one of those weird flakey chuckles. Silently hurling in my mind from disgust at the atrocious thing that just came out of my mouth I proceeded. "I was just admiring the shrubbery." I plastered a fake smile to my face. Why shrubbery, why.

He looked entirely confused, "_My lady I am afraid I cannot understand your dialect, but you need not seek refuge behind a bush. If you would like I can escort you to your room down the hall."_

I stared suspiciously at him I could only understand a few of his words, and I assumed the gist of it was I don't understand you, you seem to have a bush, I would like your room down the hall. If these thoughts were connected they were disturbing and misguided so I ventured to reason with the madman.

"_I am called Eileen Byrne. I speak Westron small. Bush nice, not my. Room nice, much my. I look for food." _

Proud at my first conversation I looked up at him, I had had my eyes plastered on the floor for concentration.

He looked confused, and then amused, but tried gallantly to hide his emotions. Hmph, let him try to learn a new language in two weeks and see how he talks, I thought, my pride a little injured. But he smiled kindly "_I am sorry I did not realize that you are a new speaker. I go by many names. However, you may call me Aragorn. I can escort you to the dining hall, my lady."_

Aragorn eh.

I looked down the increasingly twisting and intimidating hall before nodded. "_Help, nice. Thank you."_ I probably sounded like an infant and suddenly took great pity on English-is-their-second-language people in America and especially on those Asian ladies at the haircuttery.

I had yet to step out entirely from the bush so nearly tripping over this stupid dress, I stumbled over the bush in a failed attempt to hurdle. Then I noticed another guy standing farther back with an amused smile.

Probably laughing at me, the jerk.

Looking closer I realized he was the same guy from yesterday except he had shaved of his beard and he was now decked out in a blue and silver dress/tunic thing of some sort, which brought out his beautiful stormy grey eyes.

Oh god, I must look like an idiot.

I felt my cheeks getting hotter. My eyes flew back to Aragorn and he was holding his arm out for me. I looked at his arm, what is he honestly expecting me to do. Then I traveled up to his face and could see him suddenly take in my appearance and literally stagger.

"_What!" _I almost yelled excitedly "_Do I have bug on me!"_

"_No, no, my lady. I am afraid it is worse than that, you see you are not entirely dressed" _

"_Not again!" _I was slightly exasperated and panicky by now. He looked entirely puzzled and a deep, rumbling laugh was emitted from down the hall.

"_I hope this is not routine, but that is your sleeping gown and is only worn as an undergarment, my lady. I would advise you not to let anyone see you and to change immediately, it is not usually looked upon favorably. You are lucky only two uncivilized humans as Lord Boromir and I were here to instruct you." _He said attempting to sound kind and light, but failing miserably as two extremely good looking men were not what I hoped for as the audience of me basically wearing my middle earth version of undies.

My face was burning up and I probably was a crimson color by now as a mumbled an excuse. _"Happened not like this before. Not same clothes home. Please forgive me."_

I turned away composed and started to walk off before my will broke and I sprinted back to my room, full sprint mode on the balls of my feet and all, I barely made a sound as I retreated in shame with my hair whipping behind as if it wished to leave my humiliated head.

I just knew they were staring at me in horror as I hurled myself through my door and then carefully shut it soundlessly behind me.

While outside I could not here them and probably was glad for it.

_"A colorful girl, but predominately red, very amusing_." Bormoir laughed.

Aragorn looked sharply at him "_Lord Boromir, that lady clearly knows nothing of our culture, I do not think it fair to make sport of her_."

_"Yes, I am sorry it was unlike a man of Gondor, but by gods did you see her fly, I have never seen a man run so fast, let alone a woman. You shall have to tell me more about our strange kinsmen, who arrived with a band of dwarves and hides like a child."_ His eyes were twinkling.

Aragorn was not sure he fully liked this man who was so callous about the feelings of a young girl and his tongue so loose. He did not have much time for spirited conversations and petty jokes.

"_Yes, I suppose I would like to know her history as well. Good day, my lord."_ He bowed shortly and left Boromir.

I was at the point of sobbing. No, no use in hanging onto pride I was sobbing.

Curse this dress, who in gods name would make this wretched thing and hang it so innocently in the closet. I want to go home where I can run to mom when my day goes bad, where I know how to dress and not walk outside naked and still be fully clothed, I want everyone to understand my language, and I want music. I want my mp3 player. And why in the world did I feel so bad being embarrassed in front of these guys and not Olin and Durvin, well then again they weren't tall dark and handsome.

My sobbing continued and I was sure they could hear me outside and I tried to stop but I really didn't want to.

It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to

Cry if I want to

Cry if I want to

You would cry to if it happened to you.

I sang an old song my mom used to sing when I was younger and I was upset.

Then suddenly I spotted on my dresser a little blue square… and a cord.

I screamed in triumph and my sorrow was numbed as I saw my treasured link to a sane world. Leaping off the bed I had been pouring my misery out on I ran into the dresser blearily and probably thundered about in my haste. I managed to knock everything in a five feet radius down.

A deep baritone voice called out from the hallway and it sounded suspiciously like it belonged to the laughing man, what's his name, Barrymore.

_"Are you alright, my lady."_

I could care less about him out there and ignored his stupid question. Of course I'm fine we are in an elven fortress in the middle of the forest.

"I have missed you, from now on we shall never be parted!" I stroked it lovingly and checked the batteries, medium. I'll have to ration my use to get the full extent.

I squealed with delight and hugged it, or rather held it while hugging myself.

"_My lady, are you safe" _Barrymore yelled a little more urgently outside.

Seriously who shoved a stick up his arse. What could he possible think could happen? I can't deal with him right now. I'll never get peace in this place. I had already changed into my shorts and t-shirt in disgust of my white dress and its new found purpose when I first tore into the room and was now only eyeing an escape. I couldn't rightly walk outside with the man whom I had just horribly embarrassed myself in front of minutes ago and looked around for an alternate exit.

Then my door began to rattle _"My Lady!" _He's crazed, now I was getting freaked. What does "_My lady" _even mean.

I was slightly frantic and saw the balcony. I ran over to it and looked over the edge. It was not tall and its beams were the perfect fire-station-style poles to slide down. I shoved my mp3 player in my bra, something I very rarely do I promise. And climbed over the edge of the balcony when a gust of wind nearly blew me over and I screamed.

The rattling had turned to pounding. And the homicidal axe murderer outside my door was yelling again.

I took in a deep breath and slid down the pole. Once firmly on the ground I jumped over a small bush and sprinted to the forest. I need solitude, I thought as I sprinted.

The wretched door had finally yielded to him and Boromir surveyed the wreckage of the room. A table was knocked over, a chair on its side, and little trinkets from the cabinet were lying on the floor.

"_Oh valar, someone has kidnapped the girl." _He whispered. And he rushed to the balcony climbed down, landing with a heavy thunk after having to jump the last couple of feet. He could see a trail leading to the forest. He gripped the hilt of his sword firmly before he sprinted off towards the forest.

What the devil is wrong with this girl he thought in irritation, first she walks out in her undergarments and then she goes and gets herself kidnapped. In an elven fortress no less, you have to try to be kidnapped here.


	7. Misunderstandings

_I don't own any of Tolkien's works or any of the songs I use._

_A/N new update hope you like it. This chappie was fun to write so I hope you like reading it. I love to sing, so expect to find song references and or lyrics in my stories. Don't worry I know I'm kinda slow, but the other fellowship members, hint hint the hobbits, while be coming shortly, pun intended. Thank you all my reviewers, on sale Easter candy for all. School is coming to crunch time now with AP exams just around the riverbend so please don't be angry if I am late with updating. Please read and review, thank you my beloved readers._

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**Ch. 7: Misunderstandings**

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I sprinted through the forest and was amazed to find how much I missed just running. I mean, I hate long distance running, but a good long sprint every once in a while is one of the funnest things to do and this time it was in the woods. Bucket list, check one.

I was pretty sure Barrymore was insane, but for some reason I couldn't rightly think of him as dangerous. This was probably due to the only time I actually somewhat interacted with him he was smiling, oh man and what a smile…

Stop that he was laughing at you, you doofus.

Oh, sensible Eileen is sometimes cruel. He could have been laughing with me.

Just look at the woods. Don't think about that. You can't change the past, you can only move on.

The scenery was beautiful and I looked at the woodland view as I dashed by. I sped up a little. I felt strangely reckless as I ran. On my own at last. No dwarves, no wizards, no elves, no incredibly attractive men. Just me. I could almost pretend I was jogging in the woods behind my house and in ten minutes I would reach the highway.

I stopped running and just walked a little bit to catch my breath. I came to a beautiful sun filled clearing that I soon saw was a grassy cliff. It overlooked a lake and the forest stretched on for miles in the background. For the first time I felt I could finally appreciate nature. The sun stretching its long fingers in between the blanket of leaves, the breeze gently bringing to life the fallen leaves.

It was wonderful so I skipped over and just stood there with my hands outstretched. And I did what any other eighteen year old girl would do on a grassy cliff in the middle of the woods, I started singing Disney tunes.

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream  
I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a-gleam  
Yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem  
But if I know you, I know what you do,  
You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

But if I know you, I know what you do,  
You love me at once,  
The way you did once upon a dream

I was really having fun belting them out. I was dancing around pretending to waltz with somebody and basically making a fool out of myself for my own amusement, I need a little alone time.

I plopped down on the thick grass and tapping the ground while humming the tune to In the Halls of the Mountain King, which is one of the creepiest classical songs ever, when I heard a whopper branch crack.

I straightened up and tensed.

Now I know that was not a furry little animal and I'm in the middle of the woods…alone.

I slowly turned around to see none other than that madman Barrymore.

He was in a crouching position with his sword out, but he had a strange look in his face.

Oh. My. God.

Stay calm Eileen. Stay calm.

Too late I wheeled around and my gaze hit the cliff, it was about a fifty foot drop.

Trapped, trapped like rats.

I looked back at Barrymore. How could I have thought that it would be fine and dandy to run out in the woods while I knew there was a madman trying to get into my room? My head turned to the cliff and then back to him. He was sweaty and disheveled, his glowing fiercely. How could I think that wild beast was harmless!

Barrymore looked at me in the eyes.

_"I mean you no harm" _

What did he just say. If only I knew this bloody language. I couldn't process anything, my mind was too jumbled.

He said as he brought his hands up. Now his sword was high up, its cold surface glinting in the sun. He's going to stab me, I thought wildly.

I screamed.

The breeze had shifted and the sun suddenly shone piercingly through an opening in the trees.

Barrymore, shielded his eyes and made a swift motion forward, but he caught his foot on a root and sprawled out on the floor.

I seized the moment and sprinted for dear life out of that place.

My hall was the one next to the garden with the huge statue of an elf with ridiculously curly hair. Without that dude I never would have know which garden to turn into.

I ran around clumsily to my room and wrenched the door open to think, but thinking in there only made me terrified, what if that loony came over here. I decided to find Olin and Durvin.

I was completely lost in about five minutes.

The halls just kept on twisting and turning until finally I ran into some elf, "_Please where is Olin and Durvin."_

The elf looked kindly at me, "_They are in the dining hall. Would you like me to escort you. Rivendell is a maze for those who have not grown with its trees."_

I nodded and smiled happily ignoring his outstretched arm. He seemed a bit put out by this, but I just felt it was a little bit weird to always need to be clutching onto somebody arm.

The elf led me through a labyrinth of more halls before we reached a massive set of doors which were pushed open to reveal an equally impressive dining room. Man, they just have to best at everything here.

I immediately spotted the dwarves sitting aloof from the elven residents and guests and said my thanks to my guide before trotting over to them.

Olin was in high spirits "_Ahh, there you are little lass we were getting worried about you."_ Durvin just nodded dumbly because he was temporarily unable to speak due to his mouth being stuffed with food.

I was in no mood to speak at the present and just smiled weakly at them.

I went over what had just happened in my mind. What was the first thing he had said.

_My lady… _oh. It all came rushing back. He wasn't trying to kill me, he was just terribly confused or something. Everything was falling into place, I screamed, several times, in my room and he must have thought I was injured, or about to be, so he followed me into the woods where he saw me, oh lord, dancing and singing. My face was burning. No one was ever supposed to see that, even if he turns out to be completely sane I can never speak to him again. Then he had said something like no harm. Oh. I buried my face in my hands.

"'_ou… alwight"_ Olin managed to spit out between swallows.

Should I even bother to answer that correctly. No

"_Yes." _He looked satisfied enough.

A gust of wind whipped through the air and I looked back to the entrance.

There stood Barrymore. A really angry Barrymore trying to brush twigs out of his hair and dust off his clothes. He was looking around with a piercing and dangerous gaze.

Uh oh!

"_Umm, Olin, I go now, return soon."_

I made a beeline for the exit.

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The little witch. What kind of a woman was he dealing with? Never in all his years had he met such a little imp. What was she doing screaming like a madwoman in her room and running through the woods?

She could have gotten him killed. What if he had fallen on his sword? How did he fall in the first place? He never fell. That's what comes of chivalry. A screaming woman and a face full of dirt.

Boromir searched the dining hall for any sign of the slight girl. Nowhere, he scoffed. Just like the witch to up and disappear.

A swift movement caught his eye.

Making your retreat, my lady.

He followed swiftly.

She was winding down the hallway. Further and further. Frantic at first and then slowly drawing hesitant, stopping ever so slightly before turning or looking around as if to find inspiration in the quiet walls. Until she finally gave up and sat down on a garden bench.

He approached the bench.

_"A beautiful afternoon isn't it, my lady." _He said coldly. She stiffened and shook her head as in disbelief. Then she slowly turned around. The terror in her blue eyes softened his resolve to thoroughly chastise her.

She looked down, searching the ground for words.

"_I-I am sorry." _She decided lamely, looking up under her lashes at him with trepidation.

_"You need not worry so. Am I that frightening, girl." _

She didn't answer.

He sighed in exasperation. Why should she look at him with such terror, he was the one who should be offended by her ridiculously revealing clothing. Even a man would not wear such pants. Women! He went off to save her from harm and now she thinks of him as the monster. He would never set them straight. They all chase with the intent of beguiling their way into fortune ignoring the most straightforward rebuffs with unimaginable art and the one time he feels sorry for offending one she is not alleviated.

_"I say, my lady. I never meant to harm you." _The statement stank of apology for something he did that was not wrong, _"I was merely concerned for your safety."_

_"I know now. Before not understood." _She struggled.

So this explained her queer actions. A foreigner.

_"I am sorry, Lord Barrymore" _She continued.

The name she had attributed to him was so ridiculous that he snorted while attempting to keep a straight face. Her eyes widened in surprise. But it was he who was surprised to see how quickly a smile started to creep on her face.

_"I am Lord Boromir, Captain of Gondor." _He stated trying to regain his seriousness,_ "Never mind, it is forgotten." _He conceded with a smile.

_"I see you came with a pair of dwarves. From where do you hail?"_ He enquired.

Her eyes shot up, frightened and surprised as if he had just caught her in a lie.

_"I-I know not. Olin and Durvin found me." _She stuttered.

The lie was unmistakable, even a child would see that. A more terrible lie he had not come across before, or maybe it was he had just found a more honest woman.

_"Ah. And your family." _

She looked at him as if the question had just dawned on her. The reality of her life came up before her eyes. She was like an open book, readable to anyone who took the time to glance at it.

_"Gone." _She whispered. There was no lie in the words, then she whispered, "_I am gone."_

No, she was not like a book; she was mystery with the cover of a child's picture book. What did she mean by '_I am gone_,' she was here right before him. He regarded her suspiciously. The dark lord had many minions and it is said he could bewitch the minds of any unlucky enough to stray into his grasp, and she was a foreigner. So foreign that she did not know the Common Tongue.

_"I must leave." _She stated abruptly. And scrambled out of the garden to no doubt to get lost in another part of Rivendell, but he did not follow. Why should he, she was such a silly child.

Rude too, he didn't think he'd ever been addressed thus. With a laugh he thought what his father would have done if spoken to by a commoner in such a fashion. She would probably find herself employed in the washing rooms until she was as old and leathery as his gloves.

Still, he would talk with these dwarves and find out more about her. He hated being confused.


	8. Getting to Know You

_I pinky promise i don't own any of Tolkien's amazing works, you know very well i wouldn't dare to break a pinky promise lest face the consequence of losing my pinky. _

_A/N Thanks for the patience and thank you BettyBoopFan for motivating my lazy bones, it was really an alarm to get movin and i laughed as well so it was a plus all around. New introductions, yay, and i am trying to chug my story along, i'm pretty sure this won't be a tenth walker don't fret the fellowship will most definitely not be disappearing of the face of this story, plus you needn't worry about that for a little while anyway.__ Eileen does occasionally speak in english to the inhabitants of Middle Earth so don't be confused. This chapter gets funzie get excited. Thanks to all my reviewers and please read and review. Reviews are golden and almost as delicious as cookies._

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**Ch. 8: Getting to Know You**

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After my previous day's adventures and subsequent hours of aimless wandering of Rivendell I felt pretty comfortable here, though I still had no idea how to navigate this maze. Not bad for only being on my third day I thought happily as I rose from my long slumber. I attempted to gracefully roll out of my blankets, but only succeeded in rolling off my bed and onto the floor.

"Blast!"

I grumbled against the ensnaring blankets while rubbing my sore backside, will I ever master this My legs were not too pleased with me either, but that didn't make me regret running wild in the forest.

I cautiously approached the dresser for the second time. I opened the double doors to find a new vast array of colors in my face, apparently Aragorn, Boromir, and I were not the only ones aware of my lack of clothing. Someone must have squealed on me I thought with a groan, but if that's what it takes to get me some clothes around here I guess I had to suck it up.

I'm not a huge dress kid, but man were these gorgeous. I held a light blue dress with gold trimmings in my fingers and caressed its soft surface. I took it out of the dresser and held it up to myself in front of the mirror. It was incredibly light for its length and was made of silk.

I only needed to try it on once before deciding I just didn't fit into the elf type wear.

I looked through the dresser once more to find a suitable dress and found that it held a variety of styles.

I eventually picked out a more homely brown and yellow dress made of cotton with big buttons and a shorter skirt. Well not short at all compared to modern standards, but it was above the ankle which was short compared to the ground sweeping elven dresses.

Once again I could not persuade myself to wear the tiny shoes and my Sperry's looked ridiculous with my mother of all ancient dresses. So barefoot it was, I needed some new calluses anyways.

I sauntered out of my door into the warm hallway and ambled down to another one. Naturally I was lost once I got out of sight of my curly haired elf statue, but I was happy to see I remembered some landmarks. There was the purple swirly vase, the weeping willow, and then I was at the funny small hall with round doors.

As I walked through this hall a couple of little guys sprang out of one of the round doors. They were chattering excitedly until they spotted me.

The older boy with light brown curly hair spoke to me first, _"Good Morning, my lady. What brings you to the lodgings of the hobbits?"_

I only picked up on a few of his pleasantries while I was examining him. He wasn't a child, but he wasn't a dwarf. I then spotted his hairy feet and looked up at him with probably the stupidest look on my face.

"_We don't get many visitors!"_ The younger and fairer haired one exclaimed.

I still didn't say anything because I was trying to make sense of them.

They looked at me worriedly, before the older one gave an "Ahhhh" and then they huddled together.

"_I don't think she's ever seen a hobbit before Pip." _

"_Well, should we tell her or just leave her standing there."_

"_Of course not you fool, we have to be hospitable. She's no elf and she doesn't have the rough looks of the Breelanders. She is probably a guest too."_

They turned around to face me and I smiled a bit. Even if they weren't children they sure acted like ones, but hey who am I to talk.

"_We're HOBBITS"_ The older one, and apparently the leader, said loudly and slowly as if he were talking to his half deaf grandma.

I nodded. So their race was hobbits, how many more races were there in this place.

"_My name is Merriadoc Brandybuck and this is Peregrin Took-" _

"_But you can just call us Merry and Pippin, I'm Pippin"_ The younger one, Pippin, interrupted Merry.

"_I am pleased to meet you Merry and Pippin."_ Radagast had insisted that I learn at least a few courteous responses. _"I am Eileen Byrne."_

They beamed at me. _"We're going to get second breakfast, you can come if you would like, Lady Eileen."_ Pippin questioned with big blue eyes.

These kids were too cute for school. "_Yes, I come for eat."_

Suddenly I was grasped on either arm by two hobbits and led towards the dining hall. We were basically running and I started to laugh. It was just so funny that I was being dragged around by these guys and they were so serious.

They looked up at me and grinned happily before we started in an all out sprint.

We only passed a few onlookers who abruptly stopped and stared at us. I probably would too, I mean here are two littluns and a girl barreling down the hallway with linked arms, we just needed to start skipping next.

Now there was no doubt in my mind that everyone, especially those perfect elves, must have thought we had gone bonkers, but you know what who would care if you're having that much slightly insane fun. Not me, I'll tell you that straight up.

Until, I decide to take a major detour, which may or may not have been provoked by my spotting a certain dark haired hunk walking at the other end of the hall.

Both Pippin and Merry shouted in pure terror, as I took our human train for a major detour. Naturally, I was screaming at the top of my lungs, but you probably already guessed that, and also half laughing.

That is, until Pippin tripped.

Which sent Merry and I flying through the air.

It's really quite impressive that I didn't break my neck and spine, but by some divine intervention there were some conveniently located azalea bushes, which Merry and I landed in, but I did get a mouthful of leaves and nearly poked my eye out with the various branches that I suddenly found myself smooshed into.

Why me?

How did I ever get mixed up with those two little hobbits?

Haha, they were probably thinking the same thing about me

I somehow detangled myself from the clutches of the bush and stumbled about surveying the wreckage. Merry was still struggling with the bush and Pippin was sitting on the ground with a stunned look and a cut chin.

I decided little Pippin needed help first and walked dazedly over to him. I basically picked him up trying to get him into a standing position and checked that he didn't break anything.

Once we had all reassembled I tried to apologize.

"_Sorry, Bad journey. Not same in mind."_ I lamely tried to explain that my small detour did not pan out as a deadly escapade in my mind.

We started to walk back up the hill, and limping and pitiful. I probably had a hair-full of branches and flowers.

"_It is forgiven Lady Eileen, but next time just please guide us in a more sensible direction."_ Merry said a little sorely.

"_Well I think it was a marvelous adventure, you've always wanted an adventure Merry and now you got one."_ Pippin said bravely, aww that cute little suck up.

"_Right Pip, and you'll have to stop acting like a bumbling Proudfoot if you want to survive the next one."_ His eyes sparkled mischievously and I was sure I would think their adventure quite fun as long as I could get a laugh from it.

"_To food room."_ I said as I jutted my chin up, pointing my forefinger down the hall.

Along the way Merry and Pippin had told me all about this place called the Shire, which sounded like great fun and games. They had more little ponies there, houses dug out of the hills with round tunnels and doors, gardens galore, and food and ale up the wazoo.

A wonderful pastry scent floated out of the big double doors. The hobbits and I walked through and into the grand dining hall, or just the slop joint as I liked to casually refer to it.

I looked across and could see mostly elves, but also good old Olin and Durvin. Merry and Pippin led me to another table. It was half empty and its occupants were other "_hobbits._"

"_Oi, Merry who's the big folk?" _A chubby brown haired hobbit mumbled to Merry.

"_Why this is Eileen of Byrne, kinsfolk to…-"_Seriously the Eileen of Byrne stuff was getting old I thought with undying patience.

I jumped ever so slightly when a deep voice rumbled from behind finishing Merry's sentence.

"_Kinsman to Rohan if I could venture a guess." _I wheeled around to see Boromir smiling down knowingly, "_You have the fair hair and slim build of their women."_

I had no idea what a "_Rohan" _was and my hair most definitely a light brown shade, not blond, but then again he did have pitch black hair so maybe light brown was fair where he came from.

"_No, no. I am _A-mer-i-can," I stated with hand motion and wide eyes.

He looked dangerously smug, _"Is that so my lady. I thought you had said you knew not where you came from." _

I froze. He did have me there. Why did I tell him I couldn't remember again? Oh yes, Radagast had said it would arouse suspicion… More importantly why had I just let it slip that I was from a land nobody had ever heard of during a time of war, deceit, and betrayal.

He seemed to note my hesitation and looked at me with suspicious eyes.

"_Yes, sleep must have brought it back." _I stated stupidly.

_"Yes, yes, now that we are done discussing Lady Eileen's genealogy let us eat!"_ Pippin cried.

Olin and Durvin had shuffled over by this time.

"_So, my good dwarves tell me about yourselves and what brings you, here to the gardens of Imladris. It has been years since I have seen one of your kinsmen." _Boromir started a conversation casually.

Durvin seemed highly excited that Boromir was taking such an interest and chatted away.

"_We are dwarves from the lonely mountain and were sent to warn Radagast the Brown of treachery among his kind. I am sorry I cannot divulge much in you, but you know how the times are." _Durvin was carrying on, _"Radagast is in high spirits and our trip to find him did not go on unrewarded, his hospitality is excellent. We even gained a new member to our merry little band." _His voice sounded warm and I felt a great surge of affection towards that gruff little man.

"_Really, how did that come about? The lady has told me you found her." _Boromir asked.

"_Oh, we must tell you the tale of Eileen Byrne, pupil of Radagast and lady of the woods. It is most exciting"_ Olin burst out happily and in a conspiratorial tone, oh no here we go. Olin was most definitely drunk or at least tipsy. Couldn't he at least wait till noon to get drunk? I still had a lingering hope, however, that this would be a grand tale and I would come out as a little heroine.

"_Well, you see I was just walking around trying to find food when I found that little lass standing on the rocks like a bug in the strangest garb I have ever seen." _He laughed heartily and so did the rest of the table, any hopes I had dropped.

"_The first thing she did was scream, like I was nigh about to spear her, and then she threw a rock and hit me square in the chest." _There were all laughing again and Boromir was emitting a deep booming laugh. I even started to chuckle a bit.

"_I pride myself in being a gentle dwarf, but there was no reasoning with her. And think what she did next, she picked up a stick, green with leaves, and brandished it at me like an elven blade." _He then did a valiant imitation of me ridiculously and clumsily swinging around a stick shortly followed by him tripping over his chair.

They were in an uproar now and I was left to ponder my stupidity.

"_But after she got to trusting me she was most kind and curious thing." _Olin and Durvin thought on tenderly and smiled. Great now they are making me sound like some kind of a pet.

"_But you should have seen her face when she heard you yelling Durvin" _Olin began chuckling again, _"I thought she would swoon, but nay, you know what she did? She ran behind a rock and poked her head out!" _I thought they would nearly cry of laughter at my "sneaky" hiding. Ok, it wasn't that funny, really.

"_But makin' no mistakes, I wouldn't trade her for the bravest elf warrior."_ The two slowly wiped their eyes and stopped laughing.

The blonde chubby hobbit Sam, with the only normal name too, brought a bunch of food and ale over and seemed very concerned that the little dark haired hobbit, Frodo, ate.

I dared a glance at Boromir. He looked pretty ridiculous amongst four little hobbits, one decrepitly old hobbit that resembled yoda, a couple of furry little men, and an average sized teenage girl. Yep, you could say he looked like a caveman or a giant gorilla and he ate like one too. Not that he used his hands and grunted as he shoved food at his face, his manners were quite pristine, it was just that he ate soooo much, he had like ten servings.

Well didn't our table make one fine sight. We were indeed the misfits, the only hobbits, dwarves, and humans, except for Aragorn, in this place.

The only humans, well that was a first and I couldn't help but feel a little alone in that crowded dining hall. I felt slightly out of breath and looked down in confusion, surely there were more humans elsewhere after all Boromir and Aragorn had to come from somewhere…

"_Eileen"_ Olin whispered to me and I looked at him steadily but I could feel the tears burning up in my nose.

A rough hand landed on my shoulder and I thanked this excuse to free my mind.

Oh yeah I forgot about Gimli, who had just slapped me on the back, and that old coot with him Gloin.

Gimli boomed in his rough voice, _"Ah good to see you little Eileen, I was worried that you would stay in your stable boy clothes, but you have gotten some proper clothes at last."_ He then laughed heartily.

I gaped at him and bent my eyebrows in disbelief and anger. How dare he! No one gets to call me a boy. I admit if I chopped off my hair I would pull of a pretty sweet disguise as a twelve year old boy, but only I can say that.

"_Now she looks like a proper human barmaid." _Olin said and I could detect the laugh in his voice.

That pretty much broke my anger and instead I just rolled my eyes, "_I try, I do," _I started, a little exasperated that I had once again failed, "what more do you want my blood." I muttered to myself.

"_They jest, Lady Eileen_" Boromir chuckled.

I looked up into his face, he had on an infectious grin and I smiled too.

By this time I was finished eating so I said my bye byes to the hobbits and merry and pippin made me promise to meet them at noon the next day. I also parted with the dwarves and Boromir before making my exit.

Naturally once I was out in the sun I ran around until I found a fun looking balcony and then stumbled into a new room… with books, well kind of.

"Oh hello, a Library"

This should be perfect for me as I needed help learning the new language. Underneath my crazy exterior I really loved to learn especially old history which by the looks of this place would be the current history.

I walked over to a shelf and grabbed an ancient looking manuscript. There was just a bunch of intricate squiggles in the coarse handwritten scroll. Ok this might not work. Since they have never heard of English it is a good chance that they never heard of the English alphabet then. I plopped down in a plush chair still clutching the book willing it to somehow impart on me the knowledge I needed, but you know how well that worked. Did wishful thinking ever get me anywhere? Well maybe this one time... No, stop that. It doesn't.

Just then I heard a thumping noise and a squeal.

Wait, pigs aren't allowed in libraries.

I jumped up out of my chair and creeped over to the aisle emitting a cloud of dust and cautiously peered into the realm of the pig at large.

Only it wasn't a pig.

It seemed to be my very far from pig looking elleth maid, Mirima, in a heap on the floor with several books lying around her.

Still that pig might be lurking around just waiting to pounce on yet another unsuspecting victim, I know your ways evil pig. I narrowed my eyes and looked at the surroundings. No pig…for now.

"_Mirima, you safe." _She looked up at me a little flustered and then I added suspiciously, "_See any squirrels_." I used the only word I could muster that Olin had used to describe a bunch of animals.

She looked thoroughly confused by this, so the pig was stealthier than I thought.

"_Oh my lady, I am so sorry I disturbed your reading, it's just that I was standing on this stool and reaching for a book of maps when I lost my balance. I tried to hang onto the book shelf but I just managed to pull some books down with me. Please do not tell Erulisse she is my mentor and would be most displeased with my clumsiness." _Then she added in a guilty whisper, _"She may also be angered that I was in the library when I was supposed to be washing clothes."_

I just stood there and laughed which made her looked up again in confusion.

"_I do not jest my lady, it tis the truth." _

"_No fear, I feel same way often. I no tell."_

She smiled sweetly as she got up and dusted herself off. She began to pick up the books and I leaned down to give her a hand. As she was about to get back on the stool I pressed my hand to her arm and shook my head. _"I do" _She laughed a little nervously and I deftly mounted the stool and put the books back.

"_I have never been particularly adept at balancing or most physical tasks either that is why I have been avoiding my laundry duties. I prefer reading a good book or tutoring the young ones to a horse ride." _We both laughed and then suddenly a thought popped into my head.

"_Mirima, could you teach me Westron, I help where you suffer." _I pointed to the book expectantly and then outside and to me again hoping she would get the gist of the trade.

She smiled happily and nodded her head. Yes, finally I will progress satisfactorily.

"_Oh, yes I would love to tutor you after all there is plenty of time for the drone chores when you're an elf." _She winked but I didn't get the joke, whatevesies. Did she not sleep or something? I laughed a little imagining her upside down in a black cape hanging from the ceiling. Ah, vampires are terrifying, it's true. Don't believe anything anyone may tell you about them being good. Sorry, but they have no souls…and they're evil.

"_Oh no, I help you clean, I need to learn life here. And I help where you suffer"_

"_It sounds like an agreement to me." _She grinned. I think we're gonna be friends. Oooh I love new friends… Oh, sorry for the spaz attack.

I stuck out my hand to seal the deal, but she just looked at it funny so I grabbed hers and shook it violently. We looked at each other seriously, but I could see her lip twitching and I was fighting mine as well.

"Break" I said stopping the handshake and walking back to my seat. She followed me.

"_What does that mean Lady Eileen?"_

"_It is common in America, means stop." _I pondered my rudimentary explanation before nodding. I opened up the book and pushed it towards Mirima who sat next to me.

She looked down at the book and smiled, "_first we better get you a book with Westron, this is written in Tengwar and I doubt any of your kin would be able to understand you if you knew Sindarin no matter how noble of a pursuit it is."_

Yes, lesson number one make sure you are studying the correct language. This may be harder than Spanish class.

Lesson number two articles are evil and therefore must be destroyed.

After about two hours of learning my mind was officially fried from trying to remember all the new words, but I already felt clearer on my current vocab and the new words. I decided to call it a day, but in much less words and we split.

I walked outside into the sun. I'd say it was about two or so and I decided to check up on Herbert as I hadn't seen him for quite some time, but once again that meant trying to find the stables.

I had come to another dead end in twenty minutes and bit my finger.

"I'm lost" I exhaled and sat down on the grass.

A wise person who I don't seem to recall at the moment and who may or may not have been a dream once told me to follow your nose as it helps you to not only find food, but also escape fires. Once again I'm not sure if this was just a dream. Anyways I tried it and sniffed around for the stables, if you've ever been around horses you'll know what I mean when I say you can smell stables, and even if you haven't you probably know anyways.

The irrepressible smell of horses, hay, and poop was coming from the… left. I jutted my head up and ran towards my noses bidding. Sooner than I expected I ran up to the building and leaned against the wall to catch my breath. It certainly was the best kept stable I'd ever seen and that wasn't many. I walked in and looked into each stall for Herbert.

His stall was in the middle right side in between a pretty brown with a star and a murderous looking black horse with grey flecks. Well… at least they contrast nicely. I looked at my beloved Herbert standing there so calmly and bobbing his head with excitement. His cream color shone and I could see his white front hoof pawing at the ground.

I wrenched open the small gate, which was quite snuggly fitted, and strode over to Herbert. He extended his head and walked over to me.

I rubbed him on the nose, "Aww, Herbs you are such a lovy little thing, correction big thing." He snorted happily and I patted him on the side. I looked around for a brush and saw a bucket filled with hand carved grooming supplies, snazzy. I walked around to Herbert's side steering clear of blacky the crazy killer horse which had put its ears back as soon as I had come within a five foot radius of him.

I brushed Herbert down and pulled up a big bucket next to him to sit on. It was relaxing to just sit there petting his side and head whenever he bent it down to me. I had never really had the time to enjoy such simple things back home.

After a little while I heard heavy foot falls, but they died away to a soft patter and I got up and started to feed Herbert some hay. "You know you have to replace all my family at home. Nobody can speak English here so it's nice to have someone to talk to, even if it makes me feel slightly insane talking to a horse." I was feeling pretty down thinking about my family. He nudged me and I hugged his neck, "Why didn't I ever get a horse before, well they were several thousand dollars, but anyways I'm glad I didn't because now you are all the more special. We make a team you know, me and you, partners in crime." I laughed as he kept on nudging me. "No, no don't push me away again." I started dramatically and threw my head to one side putting a hand on my heart, "I can't take rejection Herbert." He snorted and shoved me. That little sneak, I couldn't help but smile at his antics.

A loud bang went off behind me and I jumped, Herbert whinnied.

"_Lady Eileen_, _forgive me. Sometimes Belecthor is very high tempered." _Boromir had magically appeared in the stall next to me and was calming that monstrous black horse. My heart was thumping in my chest after being so surprised.

For once thank god he doesn't speak English or he would probably think I am some psychotic horse freak by now. Instead I am just terribly embarrassed, but he didn't seem too weirded out so maybe this kind of interaction between horse and owner was normal after all people in the Middle Ages depended on their horses with their lives.

"_You seem to have a very good connection with your horse, another thing in common with your Rohan kin. I have seldom seen a horse so at peace with its master he trusts you greatly." _I looked back at him. He was regarding me carefully. "_I lost my horse in the river near the ruins of Tharbad, but the elves have given me this fine horse who I have named after my ancestor Belecthor. Was that your native tongue you were speaking to-"_

"_Herbert"_

"_-Herbert. It is a strange name the likes of which I have never heard. Your language too is strange, but it has a good hardy feel."_

You tell me that after you've lived in America all on your own for a couple of weeks. I did feel pretty bad for him about his horse, I don't know what I'd do if I lost Herbert and I've only had him for about two weeks.

"_Yes, Americans speak English, no Westron, no Elf speak, no dwarf speak."_

He looked amazed, _"You shall have to tell me more about this strange land and its singular customs of dress and society."_

"_Yes, it different. Now I ride Herbert."_

"_Yes, I was just about to take Belecthor out for a ride too." _He nodded

Oh great. Couldn't he take a hint I wanted to be alone and even if I did want to tell him or anyone about America I didn't have the vocab to do it justice. I never knew how much of your personality you have in communication. I saddled Herbet up before leading him out of the stall into the grassy enclosure. "_Bucket, bucket, bucket_" I muttered to myself searching in vain for something I could climb on so I could mount Herbert. Nothing, I looked up at Herbert. The saddled seemed to loom atop him and I nervously placed a hand on the horn.

Heavy booted feet and large hooves pounded steadily behind me and I looked back. Boromir had tacked Bele-whatsits and was walking into the enclosure.

"_Having trouble my lady." _He stated with a wry smile.

"_No, I'm safe."_ I was sorely lacking in vocabulary, blast Olin for not teaching me normal responses.

He chuckled, "_There is no harm in asking for help. Even a soldier needs someone to cover his back."_

I was trying to translate this when he simply walked up and hoisted me onto Herbert by my waist. To put it lightly I was surprised and I was not sure if this was normally done. If so it was not necessarily a bad thing, I don't think I'd mind this custom too much. My face reddened, I'm such a ninny.

"_Thank You." _I tried hard to look straight ahead as I blushed, stupid, stupid pale skin. Now this is going to look awkward, after all even the word awkward looks awkward I mean look at it.

He cleared his throat, "_Your Welcome, now that you are properly situated all that is left is to ride." _

I looked at him and he grinned, I followed suit and dashed off. Bet he didn't expect that.

"_My lady, slow your steed, it is rocky and the forest is not the most suitable place to race."_ He shouted, I looked back and his eyes were serious. What is he now, my dad?

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She would not stop. That insufferable girl was likely to fall and break her neck. He should have put her on Belecthor to keep her under control, but no that would be unsuitable and since when did he think about toting women around in his steed he was a soldier for valar's sake.

A sharp scream like sound came from ahead and Boromir shot his attention back to where Lady Eileen had previously been, but she was no longer there. He urged Belecthor forward and was nearly tossed when the horse suddenly stopped at a lake's edge. The lady Eileen had somehow dismounted in a matter of seconds and was gazing wide-eyed at a rather ordinary and small waterfall.

_"It is beautiful!"_ She exclaimed

"_My lady, do you not think it wise to go back for you are likely to get yourself killed or drive me to madness with your volatile activity." _He said irritably.

She grumbled something in her strange language and tried fruitlessly to mount her horse. He suppressed a laugh; even this foreign girl had some pride. He could no longer remember why he had been suspicious of her. She was as naïve and harmless as a mouse. He laughed while dismounting. A servant of Sauron indeed. What foolish notion had possessed him, she was as much a spy as he was a farmer.

He picked her up effortlessly and deposited her into the saddle. It was rather amusing to see how disconcerted she became at such a small gesture.

"_Boromir_ _what you home like." _She asked quietly as they trotted back.

Home. He ached at the mention. Home, where he belonged, with his people, with his men. _"My home is the White City of Gondor. It is truly beautiful sight to come home to the flags caught up in the breeze and the white stones standing against the mountain like a bolt of lightning. The crisp air and the white tree of Gondor standing with its solemn majesty," _he turned to her, suddenly inspired by the unadulterated awe in her face. _"I know that after such a magnificent elven fortress the work of mortal men may pale, but there is still beauty and wonder in the realm of men. I will show you Minas Tirith one day lady Eileen for you should not waste away in a place of no time, but to thrive among your own." _There were no stiff formalities or hidden motives lurking in those blue eyes, just trusting awe.

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I nodded a little. I was still swept up in the description, _"Sometime I feel alone in Rivendell." _He looked sadly at me._ "I like to see men."_

He bellowed out in laughter and I looked at him highly affronted. If I had known he would have made fun of my reflections I would have kept them to myself.

"_You mean humans. In all my nearly forty seasons I have never met such an amusing young woman as you." _He laughed and his eyes crinkled.

Wait. What? He was forty years old. No, that is just not possible he looked like he was in his late twenties or thirties. _"You no forty." _I said confused.

He looked over and nodded solemnly, _"Yes, forty. The blood of Numenor still lingers in the house of Hurin." _I looked at him thoroughly confused as to how blood could make you younger… unless he was a vampire. I narrowed my eyes.

"_My kin and I do not age as fast as most mortal men."_ He stated as if it was completely normal for some people to have unnaturally good aging genes.

Blast! Why did he have to be forty? I could have taken late twenties or maybe even very early thirties, but forty. Oh well, I have had plenty of crushes before on hot movies stars and he is basically an action hero in this world so I guess the same applies. Oh, but he isn't out of reach I am standing here right next to him with his shoulder length black hair framing his tan face and stormy grey eyes…

He looked at me expectantly did he just ask a question oh my, I fumbled for words to the last thing I had heard him say, _"Mine do."_

He blinked, oh lordy what have I just said. I sound like an idiot.

He laughed though and put one of his rough hands on my arm, _"I know not what to make of you." _I laughed and was trying to suppress myself from grinning like a madman. My stomach was flipping and all he had done was touch my arm. Man what is wrong with me I had always prized myself on sensibility when boys were involved, but he is not a boy and those eyes, he was looking at me… Not a boy! He's forty! Oh that got me and I landed harshly back on earth.

"_Good, now we go," _I laughed and urged Herbert forward. I was laughing hysterically at this but I knew that my happiness was coming from something else.

He shouted merrily and passed me in about ten seconds, blast that huge warhorse. He was waiting in the grass enclosure and handed Belecthor to an elf who had come to clean the stables. He walked over to help me from Herbert.

_"I am safe._" I yelled before jumping off of Herbert and landing deftly on the ground. At last years of climbing trees and a couple of gymnastic classes had helped me in a real life situation.

He looked slightly stunned, but offered to escort me back to our hallway, something for which I was secretly rejoicing as I had no idea where our hallway was in relation to the stables.

"_Your dwarf companions have taught you the strangest words." _He told me as we walked back.

I shrugged in response, all I had said was I'm fine. As we reached the hall and simply waved goodbye to him before entering my room. I was positively beaming. After all we could still be friends and for some reason I felt safe and comfortable with him. He was more like a guardian figure I resolved.

Boromir stood outside her door. He thought he had her figured out. She was a lost women, in need of a husband, shy, and oblivious, but she did not act in any way like the flirtatious maidens of Gondor, she would spurt off in boldness at every other chance, and she always looked as if she had some hidden secret that sparked her smile and lit up her eyes. She was truly unlike any other woman he had met. It was almost like any of the cares and customs of this land had not touched her, her mind was free from war, suspicion, and duty. He would watch out for her and make sure no harm came to her when he took her to visit the lands of men, for they were not as hospitable as elves.


	9. Eavesdropping

_As usual I don't own any of Tolkien's works_

_A/N I hope you guys like this new chapter. I tried to spice it up so it doesn't sound too much like the same old same old council of Elrond. Remember Eileen tries never follows the usual Sue standard, but that's all the insight I will give for the next chapter which is kind of like part two of this as it will be more events from the same day. Sorry if this chapter was a little rushed the next one will be all the better. Please review it would be greater than a chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and that's pretty good. Reviews of any kind welcome, I love, love, love reviews. Alrighty then on with the story._

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**Ch. 9: Eavesdropping **

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_The tree tops loomed above me on the dark forest path. I walked along numbly as if I had a choice but it was somehow already decided which path I would take. I was almost there. I knew somewhere deep inside me that if I could just get through the darkest spot then the forest would open up to sunshine and rolling hills. _

_A shadow passed behind one of the scraggily trees and my jaw tightened. I knew there was something there. My feet just kept on going steadily forward. I wanted to run from it. It would pop up somewhere just when I was in the darkest spot, I knew it, but some part of me wanted to know what it was. My heart was pounding and the shadow passed on my right. It was coming! The bushes shook and started to part. Voices were floating about the forest. **"Isildur's bane is found," "Please, take it and use its power to undo the wrongs I have wrought." "Choose," "Isildur's Bane." "Isildur's Bane!" **A warm hand grasped my arm._

"No, no. Get away!" I shouted. I shot up and opened my eyes against the blinding light. There was a tingling sensation in my body as I slowly gained my bearings.

A startled feminine voice answered me cautiously, "_My lady…are you well. I did not mean to intrude," _then she lowered he voice and sounded concerned, _"but you were screaming."_

I looked down at myself. I was all tangled up in my sheets and tears were running down my face. I quickly brought up my hand to my face and roughly wiped them off, great impressions Eileen. First screaming like a madman over nightmares and next blubbering. I loved my unusual and vivid dreams, but the downside was the occasional terrifying nightmares. I brought my knees up to my chest. What was watching me or what was it I couldn't escape without inevitably facing. I had had this same haunting dream three times this week and it was getting more vivid.

I looked up at Mirima who was standing a little recoiled by my bed.

"_I'm safe, Mirima. I thank you." _I said as confidently as I could muster and threw off my sheets before springing down onto the hard floor. _"Just dreams." _

Mirima looked seriously at me and searched my face, _"Must have been a horrid dream, you were thrashing about like a caught fish."_

"_Bad." _I nodded.

She looked a little concerned, _"You can tell me about it later if you want, I do not think now would be the best time. To take your mind off of dark thoughts I will tell you the finest bit of gossip I have heard all week and that's saying a lot."_ She winked. _"Rumor has reached me," _her eyes shifted from side to side in mock caution, _"that our hobbit friends are no mere travelers. They bear a secret weapon of some sort, whether it be the good kind or evil I know not, but the fact is that a great council of elves, men, wizards, and dwarves will be held today."_

"_Well, what time."_

"_At nine-" _She looked at me wide-eyed, _"You wouldn't… you- you don't go getting any ideas about attending it hear me. I won't have it and besides Erulisse will have my hide if she catches me snooping around councils. They are very serious business." _

I smiled broadly at her, _"Dear Mirima, sweet Mirima… my son," _I had cleverly picked up some of my words through the elves and one day I had overheard a joyous reunion of two elves where one boomed out "_My son," _some Sindarin word, before embracing him, but Mirima only looked slightly confused. Maybe that was only used on really special occasions. _"We only watch, no harm… I beg of you."_

I had been in Rivendell for a while. To tell the truth I had lost track of days but I would venture it was a couple of weeks. I could understand conversations fully unlike before when I just pieced key words together and made do. I could also speak passably well and survived on small sentences.

She looked hard, but then melted into a one sided grin. _"Alright, I suppose what Elrond doesn't know won't hurt him."_

Oh my, what have I done! Did sweet Mirima just say something that I thought no other woman in this place, save me, would dare say? I had quickly learned that socially women here were not as forward as they were in America. As I thought about just one more of the dramatic changes from my life back home I changed into a dress and shoes.

"_Hurry, we have a long way to walk and very little time to reach it. Not to mention finding an adequate hiding place."_

Ahh my ever thoughtful accomplice.

I suddenly remembered that I needed to grab something out of my backpack and spun around to grab my planner out of my JanSport. I needed to do something to pass the time and what better thing to do than find out what day it was. I had put it off for long enough.

Mirima and I walked swiftly through Rivendell as she guided me through the twists and turns into a much less traveled part judging by the unworn floor and leaves strewn haphazardly about. This is where it got tricky. We had to sneak around in order to find a proper hiding place.

"_What time?"_

"_Eight."_

"_Good lord, you woke me that early."_

"_Well, it did not look like you were resting much anyways." _She shot back

Touche.

We had reached an ancient looking tree that had a strong trunk with knots so we could climb up to its high branches. This particular tree was ideal for its height and leafy canopy that we could easily hide in. We also had ample camouflage as others like it surrounded us and there was an abundance of colorful flowers and bushes to distract. Mirima was quite the mastermind of trickery.

Even living in a small underdeveloped town I had never realized how huge trees could be. These trees had to be thousands of years old I thought as I gaped around.

I thanked myself on picking a dark green dress and was relieved to see Mirima in a plain brown one. Now all that was left to do was sit up in this tree, try not to get bugs all over me, and have a whispered chat.

I whipped out my planner and pen, the last one with ink left as well, from the big pocket in my dress. I flipped to the last day marked off in my planner. September 24, 2010. Well I guess I can scratch the 2010 out now.

"_Mirima, What year?"_

"_It is the year 3019 of the Third Age."_

"_Good." _I mumbled as I wrote that in. I tried to estimate my stay of days by myself, with the dwarves, and at Radagast's hut.

Now came the hard part. How many days had I been here?

"_Mirima" _I started shyly, _"You know how many days I here."_

"_Why of course. You have been under my care for 15 days." _She answered deftly. I was impressed.

So that's about two weeks in Rivendell, nice. That means today is… My Birthday! October 25! What an unexpected treat I thought happily. I nearly missed my eighteenth birthday. I think it's unheard of for a kid to miss the date of their eighteenth birthday and I didn't want to start. I should probably keep a better count of the days. Or better yet learn their calendar… but not now. So much to do and so much time that I don't want to do it in.

Mirima and I spent the next forty five minutes identifying objects and saying them in Westron. I even drew several things in my planner and she identified them. Then I just started drawing funny cartoons and crazed animals. She kept up with the vocab though and identified the animals and moods, that is until I started drawing the Abominable Snowman and three eyed creatures from the depths of my imagination.

All too soon Mirima told me to be quite as she heard someone. I couldn't hear anything, but she had those elf ears so I trusted her. In three minutes a couple of elves glided in talking softly to each other. Now I felt the butterflies in my stomach and held my breath. What if they can hear me with those bat-like ears?

Elrond walked in. I was legitimately nervous now. I had never thought this hard about it earlier, but what would happen if we got caught? I had never really met Elrond before and didn't know how he'd react. Would he ground me, throw me out, or put me in the dungeon or something. Mirima put a hand on my shoulder and her nervous face mirrored mine. No going back now though, just wait it out.

An old man, who I vaguely recall seeing on several occasions and who if I am not mistaken had a very charming smile, walked in with Frodo and Bilbo, shortly followed by Boromir who was looking very stern and serious. Seconds later Aragorn came accompanied by an elf with blonde hair who was talking rapidly to him in a hushed tone. Then Olin, Durvin, Gimli, and Gloin filed in and a couple of remaining elves as well.

I love history, really I do, but this was a bit much. Elrond went on for hours about the history of Middle Earth and a war with Sauron. It was fascinating stuff, but he needed to do two 60 minutes sessions each day not a billion hour bonanza. I am happy to report I learned a lot about this place, though quite a bit of the terminology was completely beyond me, but I got the basics. One thing that did catch my attention was Isuldur, my dream was haunting my mind even though I had pushed it back and when Elrond started talking about him I was all ears. He had killed Sauron and then taken the ring. Only it betrayed him and he was killed. In the meantime it has remained lost for thousands of years.

So with my brainpower in hand I was able to conclude that if dreams can be counted on this ring had been found which means this meeting must be about it as everything Elrond has said so far has led up to and/or was about the ring. I thought back on my dream. Radagast's words were also in there, could this ring be the key to finding my purpose. No, that couldn't be because everything I just learned means the ring is evil and will destroy anyone who tries to use it. Right.

I looked up to see that Elrond had stopped speaking and was looking at Frodo.

_"Bring forth the ring Frodo."_

Frodo got up reluctantly and placed something on the dais in the middle of the courtyard. I heard audible murmurs and Mirima gasped beside me as I leaned forward eagerly trying and see what it was that was making such a fuss.

And there it was. A small, solid gold ring with no markings. There was something dangerously and enticingly beautiful about it and though there were warning signs going off somewhere in my sensible side I still felt drawn to it. More simply put: it was that bacon and cheese double-burger with extra ketchup and fat fries on the side. You know it's gonna give you a heart attack, but man does it look good. That is how that ring looked. From everything I had heard it was the evil of all evils, but hey what if I could use its vast powers against the dark lord. Remember Isildur, my sensible side finally burst out and ruefully I saw the pools of grease on the bottom of the plate.

I broke my eyes from the ring to see what else was going on only to find Boromir talking to the others with a flushed face and zealous tone.

"_In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: Your doom is near at hand."_ He stretched his hand out, _"Isildur's Bane is found." _

My mind was in a tumult. How could he look at it so longingly did he not hear his own words. "_Your doom is near at hand"_, yeah, more precisely two inches from him. I wanted to scream out it was so wrong. Right now it looked hideous to me, my dream flooding my mind as Boromir repeated those fated words _"Isildur's Bane."  
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Then the old guy abruptly stood up and started screaming something. Chills went through me, the very sky seemed to grow dark and pressed upon me as if it was trying to smother me. I clapped my hands over my ears trying to stifle the words but they still slithered through.

"**_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul,  
ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."_**

Horrified silence ensued then Elrond broke in angrily, "_Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!"_

Old guy muttered some response and glared at Boromir who was once again gazing at the ring like it was his job. Seriously, he may have been a noble and a master of war, but did he not just hear the words o' doom from old guy.

_"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe." _I was fuming, but why did I feel as if I were overreacting. I mean he was only thinking about his country there were no selfish motives in his reasoning.

**That's what he wants you to think, he wants it for himself. **Yeah, it did seem a bit strange. If he really wanted to help others he wouldn't want it only to help his people. **It's just an excuse. You should get it, after all Radagast said you were sent here by Iluvatar. **I could help so many people with this ring and what if I could kill Sauron. **You would be hailed by the people of this strange land and maybe even sent back home. I could help you. **I stared intently at that simple ring.** It's so easy. They are fools, blinded by their archaic ways. You have seen it yourself. You would get all of the glory, all of the power, for all eternity.**

Then music saved me when those words struck inside me the song from Jesus Christ Superstar, it's got some really fantastic music in it seriously, back to plot. I remembered the song from Jesus Christ Superstar,

"Neither you Simon, nor the fifty thousand  
Nor the Romans, nor the Jews  
Nor Judas, nor the twelve  
Nor the priests, nor the scribes  
Nor doomed Jerusalem itself  
Understand what power is  
Understand what glory is  
Understand at all  
Understand at all"

Thank music to bring me back to my senses and that burning pit of selfish domination in me. I was a regular mini tyrant, what was I thinking.

The council was in an uproar now and everyone was yelling at each other, but I had learned my lesson. That ring could get inside your head man.

Frodo stepped up meekly from his chair, "_I will take it. I will take the ring to Mordor, though I do not know the way."_


	10. Festivities

_I don't own any of Tolkien's works_

_A/N Sorry for the really late update it's getting a bit harder for me to grasp the feel of the story. I hope you like this new chapter. I'm trying to speed up my story and move it along a bit faster, but I'm not succeeding on that too well as there is just so much I can say. I think the stay at Rivendell will be coming to an end soon as all good things do. Thank you to all my reviewers and as usual reviews are like sweet music to my ears. It's so easy just click the button at the end of the page… you know you want to._

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**Ch. 10: Festivities**

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So a fellowship had been formed to destroy the one ring. Aragorn, old guy, Boromir, an elf from Mirkwood, and Gimli had stepped up. Next Sam had run out from a hiding place and earned a spot for his gallantry. Apparently I was not the only one who didn't want to be left out. But I had expected Merry or Pippin to be the hiders not shy, innocent Sam.

Mirima and I had successfully eavesdropped on a council over the fate of middle earth… without getting caught! Needleless to say it was a big confidence boost for my inner ninja. Though I had a sinking feeling old guy looked over at our tree when I let out a gasp as Frodo stepped forward to take the ring.

I nimbly explored the tree we had been hiding in with an easy mind because everyone but Mirima and I had left about twenty minutes ago.

I had forgotten just how much fun and natural it felt to be climbing a tree. It had been years since I really did it and even then I was getting too big for the old prickly tree in the front yard. It was thrilling to vault yourself up higher and higher and feel the sense of daring and height. The things a teenage girl will do to spice up a mundane afternoon. It also came in handy that I still had my shorts and tank top on thus making me able to shed that infernal dress much to Mirima's horror. But hey between two girls what does a tank top and shorts matter even if it was middle earth.

"_Eileen! I must insist we leave and you put yo-your garments back on! If anyone were to see you…" _She trailed off looking pale.

"_You are the fault Mirima" _I looked innocently at her, "_You no give me time to change. So I had clothes under clothes. It is good." _I attempted to tell her the rather complicated sentiment that she didn't give me enough time to change fully out of my pj's, but that was okay because I was now utilizing them to my own benefit… but naturally it only makes sense if you can speak above the level of a kindergartener.

She shook her head, "_You make less sense than Erulisse trying to describe the scouts rotation," _Mirima grabbed my dress off of the branch it had been strewn across, "_and believe me she may pretend to know everything but she has absolutely no knowledge when it comes to the scouting plans." _

"_I believe it." _I nodded solemnly and reluctantly climbed down after Mirima. Once I landed on the ground Mirima attacked me with the dress and nearly strangled me trying to shove it on.

"_Yes, yes_." I spluttered grabbing the dress and bringing it down. I shot her a dark look and she put her hands on her hips.

"_Have you composed yourself my lady?" _She questioned sarcastically.

"_Why yes, my lady Mirima. Shall we." _I held out my arm regally and she rolled her eyes. Was I really that bad of an influence on this perfect elleth. I laughed and she led me back through the twists and turns to my room.

I carefully shut the doors and faced Mirima to finally speak about the pressing matter we had just overheard.

"_Magic rings, dark lords, dragons. What is happening?" _I looked gravely at Mirima.

She shook her head slowly._ "I thought it was just a legend, after all I am quite young at only three hundred years of age." _I scoffed and she smiled at me, "_When you're an elf that is." _Then she looked gravely at me, "_We must not tell any other soul about this council Eileen." _This was certainly something she felt very strongly about and I couldn't blame her. I mean if either of us spilled the beans we could get this whole world imprisoned by some evil guy. So I held out my pinky finger.

"Let's seal this deal." I set my face and firmly gripped her pinky with mine and shook. She looked at me like I had grown five heads.

"_You are strange." _Her expression once again turned solemn, "_Besides that I am not sure how much you can trust Lord Boromir," _She remarked pensively, _"he seemed far too keen on employing the powers of the one ring for himself."_

"_He wanted to help others." _I remarked surprised at my own defensive tone.

Her chestnut eyes locked onto my blue ones, _"Be that as it may Eileen, but you have no idea of the evils of this world. In such dark times no stranger should be trusted let alone a human one." _

I was scared by her words but then felt a little hurt at her jab against MY race, _"That not fair." _Hey, maturity hasn't been my shinning attribute.

She sighed and looked away, _"I am sorry Eileen I did not mean to appear so suspicious. It is just that our world is changing so fast and I don't want you getting hurt."_

"_What me?" _I laughed, _"What you think I will do. Go and fight dragons." _

She laughed and threw a pillow at me which hit me full in the face. I looked at her startled, but her face had lit up with more exciting thoughts.

"_Besides all this doom and gloom there is some other piece of news," _She smiled wryly at me. _"It seems that dinner tonight will be an extended affair and you may want to dress your finest."_

Now what was she driving at, _"What?"_

She laughed, "_There are simply no subtleties with you Eileen. What will I do with you?" _She let out a mock sigh, "_There is to be a feast tonight and then an evening in the Hall of Fire." _She exclaimed excitedly.

"_And?" _

"_All you have to say is 'and,' my dear Eileen you are in for a surprise so get ready for extravagance, food, and music only the court of Elrond can provide." _She had grabbed my hands in excitement. "_Now we must find you something real to wear." _

Am I wearing something fake, I pondered as she yanked me over to the dresser and burrowed through it.

After an hour of preparation, which was blessedly short compared to what I thought Mirima would force me to endure, I looked in the mirror.

I was sporting what looked to be a medieval high class dress in medium blue. I figured it was something that humans wore because it still looked distinctly different than Mirima's usual dresses and the cross stitching pattern on the sleeves were reminiscent of a couple shirts I had seen Boromir wear. The collar had a half cross shape cutting into the blue where the white lining layer could be seen. The lining could also be seen underneath the cross stitching on the sleeves. To top it off I had a dark blue belt that hung loosely on my hips and dark blue slippers that matched. As you can imagine I felt pretty ridiculous decked out in this medieval wear as if I belonged, but I couldn't push the ridiculous feeling of girly giddiness from wearing such a pretty thing.

Mirima had braided some of my hair in one of those elven half up-dos that seem so popular around here. I had to admire her good taste in fancy but simple fashion.

"_Well, now you finally do your race a service," _She nodded in approval. And I wasn't sure to take that as a compliment that I looked good or an insult that she had just said looking pretty was the only way I could help my race. Haha, oh what little she knew of political correctness, but I knew she meant no harm and was only being nice.

"_I thank you_." I looked at her in the simple brown dress. She still looked stunning, but why didn't she change? _"You look wonderful, Mirima." _She smiled happily and I looked back at my own mortal self, oh well you can't beat 'em all, but I still couldn't suppress my grin of happiness from her compliment.

"_Come, we should go to the dining hall now. It must be nearly time for the feast to begin and I am to escort you." _

I nodded my head nervously. What was I thinking agreeing to go to this feast?

We walked through the massive wooden double doors into the dining hall which had been beautifully decorated with garlands of fresh green leaves, assorted flowers, and white banners.

What was I playing at?

My eyes absorbed all of the beautiful elven guests dressed to the nines smiling and chatting gracefully.

I don't belong here.

I started gnawing on my bottom lip as I tentatively took a step forward into the hall filled with everything that I was not.

I'm no princess or lady or- or whatever else was important and revered here. I didn't have any graces or fighting skills or even laundry washing skills.

I sucked in my breath as some people, and by people I mean elves, bowed at me and I shakily executed a curtsey. Mirima shot me a sideways glance and I smiled in what I hoped was a pleasant way back at her, but it might have just looked like I was baring my teeth. Blast these nerves.

I'm just a seventeen year old girl stuck in a world that knows nothing about me and which I know nothing about in return.

Alright Eileen calm down don't have a mental breakdown in the middle of your first feast. What's there even to be scared of right. I mean your Aunt Tina was much more terrifying. Remember how she would scream in happiness, or rather triumph, when your family entered her house and would proceed to try and jam food down your throat during dinner with her fat little fingers because you were "thin as a rail." Then afterward she would feed her severely obese cat 'nipper' anchovies and prod everyone to rub its belly.

Thank you sensible Eileen for reminding me that no matter how bad things get they will never be as horrifying as a trip to Aunt Tina's. After all I gotta put on a good face and show all these elven dweebs that American girls can handle pressure.

I held up my frame a little straighter and proceeded with my newly acquired fake confidence, but I still found myself chewing on my lip. I guess old habits don't die too easily.

Mirima led me to one of the tables and after I sat down she grabbed my shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. Then she turned around. I made a strangled protesting noise that I hoped only she heard. She turned around and smiled encouragingly, "_I only came to escort you, Lady Eileen."_ She bowed and left quickly before I could protest properly.

I turned around uncomfortably and took in the layout of my table. On my left was the particularly perfect looking blonde elf that had volunteered for the fellowship. He was currently deeply engaged in a conversation with another blonde haired elf. The seat on my right was empty but past it were another couple of elves. I looked up to see a pair of stormy grey eyes staring at me from across the table.

I thankfully restrained my jittery nerves and jumping reflex.

"_Good evening Lord Boromir." _I addressed my new acquaintance formally. I wasn't really sure how to act at this feast so better more formal than look like a redneck.

His gazed snapped out of intensity and he laughed.

"_I have not heard such formality since I was last dinning in the halls of Gondor," _He laughed as my eyes bugged a little in fear that I had offended him, _"but at least you bring a little of home to the last homely house. Good evening to you as well Lady Eileen."_

I smiled and inclined my head a little. I stopped biting on my lip and instead settled with tapping my fingers silently on the table. Boromir caught this gesture with his sharp grey eyes.

"_You need not be nervous they will not be judging you on etiquette." _He said jokingly but I paled. Oh my, I had forgotten about etiquette how do they eat at a formal dinner like this? The gears were spinning in my head as I suddenly looked down at the many utensils next to my plate.

I started gnawing on my lower lip again.

"_Lord Boromir, it seems you are making the lady very nervous." _Aragorn said from behind in a serious tone. He always seemed to be serious or deep in thought.

"_Lord Aragorn," _Boromir inclined his head, _"Nay I was trying to alleviate her unrest, but it seems that I am not succeeding." _

Oh Boromir and his kind smiles, I smiled back at him and felt my head get lighter. 'Forty' a small voice in my head hissed and yes there are small voices in my head.

"_I am safe, thank you" _I said happily.

"_My lady, you make me feel as if I have just saved you from a band of particularly hungry orcs rather than alleviate nerves." _He laughed.

I smiled but was confused as to how 'I'm fine' could be taken with such high regard and I was also slightly startled at the image his description had brought up after all of the horrible things Durvin had been so adamant about telling me about orcs and his many years of fighting them.

* * *

Boromir felt Aragorn's eyes burning into him and looked at him. He winced. The look on the ranger's face so obviously said that he had blundered. He had never been one for choice phrases and pleasantries fit for the company of women. He was a sensible man, a man of war and never really had time for practicing the art of politeness. Faramir had always succeeded more in such gentler fields which required patience and subtleness. He had only bothered with learning the body language useful in his craft, mainly those that betrayed tricks, lies, and guilt.

He looked at Eileen's slightly confused face as the servants placed food on the table and admonished himself, of course talking about such disgusting creatures would not make her any more comfortable. But then her face changed into a poorly concealed smile and she seemed to be fighting back a laugh. He could never figure her out she was like a painting that you would go to examine only to find that each time you glanced at it the colors would all bleed together. Worst of all she seldom actually spoke so he was left at a loss in all situations to figure out her disposition.

* * *

Oh lordy Aunt Tina would have a field day in this place. I gazed at all the food and flipped my brown hair over my shoulder to get it out of the way. There were even plenty of skinny elves to bully into eating. As I looked at all of the regal elves sitting there I had to fight back the urge to burst out into laughter imaging my sweet auntie trying to coerce them into eating as much food as humanly possible and then a little more just in case.

As the feast was concluding Lord Elrond stood up.

"_Lords and Ladies, men and elves, dwarves and wizards," _Elrond began in a regal, impressive tone. _"This feast has seen representatives from all the good races of middle earth and I now invite you to the Hall of Fire." _

Everyone began to clap and slowly the hall moved into motion. Elrond led the way to the hall of fire and I walked timidly behind Boromir and Aragorn, unsure of what this new place would hold.

I felt as if I were part of some ancient ceremony, everyone walking solemnly through the moonlight halls. Our procession came to a room lit by large torches with a bonfire in the center. Oh so that's where the name came from.

Someone tugged on my sleeve and I looked over to see the grinning face of Pippin staring up at me.

"_Hello Miss." _

"_Hello Pippin" _I replied cheerfully, he always made me feel at ease.

Merry made his presence known next. _"Well, don't just stand there Pip. Ask her."_ He whispered.

"_Oh, right" _Pippin turned his face up to me again, _"Would you give us the honor of escort'n you to a proper seat" _he made a short bow before looking up expectantly.

Haha, that little suck up, well he's already under my skin. I nodded and he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward a finely cushioned bench.

"_Never been to a feast like this before, quite the party." _Merry mused.

"_Where do you think the food is Merry?" _

"_You just ate!" _how much can they eat_?_

"_Well, yes…but you see that was dinner, this is supper" _Pippin stated matter-of-factly.

"_Shushh Pip, they're starting." _Merry elbowed Pippin.

Sure enough, as I looked up an elf with soft features and perfect posture was standing on a raised platform near the fire pit. I saw the dwarves sitting across from me and Aragorn was standing a little distance from them. Boromir was leaning against a pillar off to the left.

The hall quieted and everyone looked expectantly at the elf in the center. My curiosity about the hall was not only satisfied but forgotten along with everything else as the elf opened his mouth and sang.

I couldn't understand a word of it, but it was like entering a dream. There were no barriers I did not need to understand the language of the elves to be able to feel, no actually see what he was singing. He sang of his world, of its beginning, its sorrow, its joy. I saw the mountains and rivers and great yellow plains. It was unlike any music I had ever heard. It was simply beauty and I was floating on it, being twirled about in the air by it and still feeling the ground beneath my feet.

I felt a burning sensation in the pit of my stomach and in my chest. It felt as if the emotion might burst out of my chest. My head was spinning. Then he stopped.

A couple minutes after the elf's performance the mood had turned form reverent to festive. Wine was served and others got up to sing, their courage bolstered by their mild inebriation. Olin even sang a song. It was in his native '_Khuzdul'_ and I was surprised at how calming his gravelly voice sounded.

Over the murmur of singing Merry turned to me, _"So my lady, we have told you much about our home in the shire, but we have yet to learn the ways of your land."_

Oh, whenever people had asked about where I came from I always avoided the question, but I could see there would be no escaping now I would have to give them at least a rudimentary explanation of America, but how? How was I to explain cars, washing machines, light bulbs, ac, computers, radios, high rise buildings, guns, running water… ah brain overload.

"_America is far away. Land covered by big towns with many people. The people are only human. No elves, no dwarves, no hobbits." _Merry's eyes were the size of baseballs and Pippin's contorted face looked painfully confused. Hmmm, I haven't even gotten started…

A few people had overheard our conversation and leaned in, including the blonde haired elf in the fellowship and Boromir. I really should work on getting introduced to everyone.

"_Americans ride carts with no horses. Houses are big with bright fires that no burn. Man control weather in house." _Well that didn't sound as awkward in my mind as it did out loud.

"_The magic must be powerful indeed in this Amehricah." _One of the elves nodded sagely.

"_Withcraft! I jus' knew one of you were a goin' to bring tha' up." _Gimli stumbled over glaring at the unintentionally offensive elf.

"_No, no magic." _I tried to explain, "_In __English_ _word is_ 'machine'… _everything is made by man."_

"_Well then, what are your customs?" _Merry asked trying to look as if he understood_._

"_Women wear same clothes as men." _Everyone gasped. Ahhh, wrong thing to say, I take it back, _"No, not bad in _America" I bit my lip nervously.

Ooooh, fail. I was looking around at all of the confused and now slightly angry or disgusted faces surrounding me. Then I remembered something my freshman year English teacher had said **'Music can tell more about a civilization than any laundry list of facts.' **

I had to tell these people that for all the faults of earth, it was good in many ways as well. So far I had only succeeded in telling them a bunch of things they would never believe and even if they did they could never understand. I looked at the faces again. Time to salvage all the courage you've got Eileen.

"_I know music _of America" The crowd lit up and there were excited murmurs. Okay so at least this was going to be a crowd pleaser. Before I knew it Pippin was pushing me to stand up and I was facing a crowd of expectant middle earthers or is it middle earthlings, whatever I was facing a crowd. What to sing, what to sing? American Woman, they might get the wrong idea. Gaga's Bad Romance, no I might get stoned. Big Spender from Sweet Charity, no I would definitely get stoned. Here Comes the Rain Again, Something I Can Never Have, I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing, Iris…. So many good songs, but which would impress them the most. I downed a glass of wine, took a steadying breath, and began that slow but beautiful song 'Nature Boy."

'There was a boy

A very strange enchanted boy

They say he wandered very far, very far

Over land and sea

A little shy

And sad of eye

But very wise

Was he

And then one day

One magic day he passed my way

And while we spoke of many things, fools and kings

This he said to me

The greatest thing

You'll ever learn

Is just to love

And be loved

In return'

I looked around nervously anticipating their reaction. Though I could tell that I hadn't messed up the song I wasn't sure how my singing would live up to their standards.

They were… smiling and looked thoughtful. I looked over to the beaming and dare I say proud face of Boromir.

"_That was beautiful" _He said.

What to say. I often find it uncomfortable when people compliment me even though it makes me feel good.

"_Thank you" _I smiled and blushed. Well now I was too uncomfortable to just sit back down. _"I think I will walk outside." _I gave a curtsey-like bob and walked slowly out trying to make my abrupt exit as normal as possible. Once free of the room I started to run through the hallways. I had all this pent up energy and I ran into a small courtyard garden.

I laid down on the lush grass and stared up at the stars. No light pollution, no airplanes, just stars and clouds and a deep navy blue abyss.


	11. Journeys and Swords

_I don't own any of Tolkien's works_

_A/N Thanks for your patient waiting my readers. I think this chapter much better than the previous one and I had a lot of fun writing it. It gets a kind of serious at the end so tell me if you like it. I hope you guys like it. Psst, I'll show you where the cookie stash is if you review. That said I love, love, love reviews and any support or criticism is welcomed with open arms similar to the ones described in Journey's song._

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**Ch. 11: Journeys and Swords**

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I woke up groggy and slightly disoriented. Roughly trying to unravel myself from the blanket I stumbled out of bed and slid my hand across my face.

I slipped on a blue dress and some flats before making my way out of the room. I had finally learned my way to the main areas and walked briskly to the dining hall.

While eating breakfast I saw Pippin and Merry arguing heatedly with Elrond as Frodo and Bilbo stood by. A wisp of their conversation carried over to me.

"_You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" _

Well I certainly need to find out what was going on with them. Finished with my food I stood up intending to walk over to the small group, but I never got a chance as I was intercepted.

"_Lady Eileen I need to speak with you," _a rough hand had caught my wrist and I twisted around to see who it was. My stomach lurched.

"_Yes, Lord Boromir." _

_"Mithrandir has asked me to introduce you to him," _I nodded and his hand slid from my wrist to grasp my hand as he steered me out of the dining hall and down one of the many hallways, _"But more than that I wanted to tell you I will not be staying in Rivendell much longer."_

I feigned surprise as I wasn't supposed to know about the whole fellowship business.

He nodded gravely, "_There is a most urgent matter I must attend to and then I shall be heading back to Gondor. You must not think I have forgotten about my promise to bring you to the white city."_

He looked sideways at me as we walked down the halls.

"_That plan will just be delayed. I shall come back for you when time allows and then bring you to the land of our people." _He tone left no room for argument and I had none anyway so I remained silent.

"_There will be no need for that Lord Boromir," _I looked around startled at the addition to our conversation and found we were now at a pair of large black doors and standing before them was old guy, who I had been informed yesterday was called Mithrandir or Gandalf in the North.

Boromir's hand tightened on mine, _"And why is that?"_

Mithrandir chuckled, _"Well it would be quite impossible for you to retrieve the Lady Eileen from Rivendell if she is in Lothlorien."_

My eyes widened.

"_No one has told me of this." _Boromir said tensely.

No one has told him of this! What about me! I wasn't even asked. From the maps I had studied Lothlorien was far from here. Who would I go with? Surely they would not send me alone?

"_The woods of Lorien are perilous and you would send an innocent maiden into its web. Do you not know of the elf witch that rules that dark land." _He said angrily.

"_Do not speak of what you do not know." _Mithrandir snapped. _"The golden lady has asked for Lady Eileen so she may give her council and so go she will."_

I looked on resentfully at the conversation talking place. Don't you just love it when you're standing next to someone and they're talking about you like you're not there? It seemed like everybody had done a fine job of deciding my fate without me.

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"_What council?" _Boromir asked suspiciously. He did not like this new plan and trusted the witch in Lothlorien less.

"_Never you mind. Reasoning is wasted on you." _Mithrandir huffed and quickly pulled Eileen away. As her small hand slid out of his he saw her startled blue eyes peering back at him before she disappeared into the library with the old wizard. He felt a strange mixture of emotions he couldn't quite place. This protective feeling was only natural as he had assumed the task of her guardian. So it was only natural he should be upset by this new change of plans and also the fact that he may never see her again… No, no that wouldn't happen he would just have to venture into that dark realm and then bring her to Gondor.

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I inhaled the musty smell of parchment and ink that could only belong in such an ancient library as this one.

"_The Lady Galadriel has summoned you, do you know why?"_ Gandalf questioned. His piercing blue eyes regarded me knowingly.

"_No." _I honestly had no idea, unless….

_"Do not think you can so easily fool a wizard. You may pull he hood over men and even elves, but a wizard is a different matter." _His clear blue eyes bore into mine I shifted uncomfortably, _"Oh yes, I saw how you and the elf maiden were spying on the Council. It is still commendable how long and faithfully you have kept it a secret, but your knowledge is dangerous. It will not be long before Rivendell is emptied into the West. The elf maiden will be going to the White Shores so she will bear her secret across the sea, but you will not and you cannot stay here either."_

"_I am sorry, I never thought, never wondered how important it would be." _I apologized fearfully.

_"Apologies are pointless now; action is the only remedy. You must go to Lothlorien and never breathe a word of the council. The elves will keep you safe there until a time comes when need or safety drives you away." _He said.

"_I have also been meaning to ask you what the manner of your apprenticeship with Radagast was."_

Was he implying something inappropriate, if so I might gag and the disgustingness.

"_He taught me about plants and animals and-" _I stopped should I tell him. Would he think me crazy.

"_And?" _He prodded with raised eyebrows.

"_And he gave some kind of a blessing." _

"_Oh yes, I noticed there was something different about you when I first saw you." _

_"How so?"_

_"Blessings work in many ways, they are not especially strong magic, but they are rarely given. And to anyone who can recognize them the blessed stand out."_

_"What does it do?" _

_"Oh not much, it is really more of a choosing, an anointing if you will. Given so that the one who receives the blessing will never forget their purpose and what it is that guides them."_

Okay…

He turned to go. Wait I'm not done yet.

"_When do I leave?" _I asked tentatively.

"_Oh, it slipped my mind," _He smiled warmly, "_in a fortnight." _Then without further adieu he walked out of the library.

I slid down in a plush chair.

In a fortnight…

What is a fortnight?

I stared dumbly at a bookcase examining an aged book with a dark red spine. I heard the creak of a heavy door and the thudding of heavy footfalls. The cloth on the edges of the spine was frayed and torn, the black writing was faded on the surface.

"_Lady Eileen." _A deep voice rumbled. _"Are you well."_

I looked up into Boromir's concerned face.

Well I guess I knew I would have to leave sometimes, but even though I complained about getting lost all the time I really did like Rivendell. It was the nearest thing to perfect I had ever seen. Sure, I always dreamed about exploring Middle Earth, but I never actually thought about how I would feel when the time came.

"_Strange how fate plays out, here I came to tell you I was going to leave when it turns out you will be leaving first." _He said as he sat down into the opposite chair.

"_Yes, it is strange, but it would happen at some time, better now." _I mumbled. Yes, it was for the best I guess.

Boromir just looked at me, which was a little disconcerting. I scrounged around for something to say.

"_Can you teach me to use the sword." _I blurted out randomly, but it was really something I had been thinking about for quite some time and for several reasons. Number one it seemed the only way of self defense, two it was a time of war, and three bucket-list.

"_Why would you need to wield a sword?" _Boromir asked.

Why not! What kind of a question was that. _"To defend myself." _I said impatiently.

He looked confused and affronted, "_My Lady Eileen I assure you on behalf of Lord Elrond that you will be safe amongst the escort of Rivendell. As for my behalf, on my honor as a man of Gondor, I would defend you with my life."_

Oh my, I didn't count on him getting offended, but I don't want to leave my life in the hands of others no matter how capable. I need to be able to defend myself. Surely he of all people would know that from living on the forefront of battle.

I bit my lip and looked away trying to phrase this properly, _"I trust you, but I must be able to defend myself._ _I do not want to be helpless if the situation was dire."_

"_It is a very strange of a woman to request to learn the art of combat."_

_"Please," _I added, "_You must understand."_

He paused mulling over his thought, "_I will teach you if you ask it of me."_

"_I do ask it." _I exclaimed happily.

"_Then we will start immediately as you have scarce enough time to learn how to hold a sword." _He laughed at my excited happiness.

What have I gotten myself into? I looked at the heavy swords and other sharp and shiny objects in the armory. Boromir deftly picked up a thick sword from a barrel. He ran his hand lightly across the blade and swung it. I yelped and jumped back as he chuckled.

"_Courage my lady, we have not even started practice yet."_ He passed me the sword and I reached out to grab it.

The minute he let go the heavy blade dropped to the floor with a dull thud and I grinned sheepishly up at Boromir. It had looked so light when he was practically tossing it around.

He smiled broadly, _"Well, that won't due. We need you to at least be able to brandish your sword at your foes." _

He searched for several more minutes examining swords and testing their weight. At last he came to a short sword with elvish designs upon it. He handed it over to me. It was still heavy but I was able to hold it comfortably enough. The handle was a reddish tinted metal with a dark leather strap where the hand gripped it. The blade had swirled grooves and inscriptions in elvish that rang along the middle and stopped short of the tip. I tipped the sword downwards to discover that the pommel had an engraving of an eagle and some more words on it. I wonder how much a medieval fanatic would pay me to get his hands on this thing. Money in the bank.

"_What is it called" _Boromir questioned.

I looked at him puzzled. Did they name their swords like a pet?

"_Look," _He pointed to the pommel, _"This is Earenecet." _

I guess they did.

He led me out to a sunny clearing. The grass was bent as if it was often trampled on and the spare trees grew like a wall around it.

At first I just looked at him as he began to stretch his arm, swinging it in a wide circle.

"_Well, don't just stare. Get yourself prepared."_ He said.

"_What?_" I asked stupidly.

He sighed, "_I knew this was not a good idea_."

"_Oh, no no,"_ I snapped out of myself, _"I want to learn, but I cannot in a dress."_ I gestured to the flowing hindrance draped around me.

He looked at me like I had grown another head, "_What else would you wear?"_

"_Pants,"_ I said, thinking where I could come across such a precious commodity…"_You have pants."_ I smiled.

"_Yes,"_ he started slowly.

"_And I need them._" I said smiling, his eyes widened and he looked shocked. Really, was it that offensive that I wanted to move freely in my God-given legs?

"_First I will tackle one social violation and then when I am used to that I will satisfy the_ _other."_ He said with a troubled brow, apparently he was highly uneasy about my new outburst of 'manly' interests.

"_Fine_," I grumbled. Dangling _Earenecet_ lazily and waiting for him to tell me what I needed to do first.

Without warning he lunged forward with an agility I would never have believed his massive body could obtain and he began to engage me in what I could only call mortal combat... extreme edition. His gray eyes danced with merriment at my agony as I awkwardly tried to save myself.

He swung, I blocked.

He jabbed, I sprung back.

It felt like the very earth was vibrating.

He swung again, I ran around to his left.

He pushed me hard with his shoulder. I stumbled backwards and then stomped hard on his foot as he advanced again.

He laughed heartily and put down his sword, but I was not done yet. I jabbed the butt of my sword into his chest. He was still laughing and rubbed the spot I had wounded.

I narrowed my eyes and raised the weapon again.

He held out his hand. _"Enough! You fight like a wild cat_," His deep voice boomed in laughter, _"I would have never suspected it from a timid kitten like you."_

I looked at him with resentful eyes and crossed my arms.

He slowed his laughing, "_Do you know why I did that_."

"How should I know?" I griped feeling satisfaction at being able to freely grumble at him in my own language, "Cruel initiation rites perhaps?"

"_Now don't be sore my lady."_ He said, his voice becoming soft, _"A real battle is not a controlled dance. You must be prepared for the enemy to throw everything at you and especially his weight as you are at an obvious disadvantage in regards to that. I took this test slow. There is much work to be done and a short time to do it in." _Then he smirked, _"but I think the fighting cat will do quite well."_

I glared at him.

After this first demonstration we used wooden swords and by the end of our long session he had taught me how to properly position my feet when fighting. It was hard to keep balance and grace while trying to hammer the brains out of your opponent and I kept stumbling in this blasted dress, but then again if I could master this with a dress I could do anything with pants. I smiled at the thought.

The next day was much the same, although my muscles ached with protested as I crouched and lifted the blade. On the fifth day he decided to evaluate my skills and once again engaged me in mortal combat extreme edition.

He sprang at me. It was like of a vicious lion springing towards an unsuspecting gazelle victim which tried in vain to escape the assault. I was the unsuspecting gazelle.

I tried desperately to block his hard swings and even took an attacking parry but he rammed his blade against mine so hard it felt like he had just broken my wrist. He didn't even seem concentrated and his eyes were twinkling so I knew he wasn't serious, but I recalled the fire kindled in his grey eyes when he caught me in the woods weeks ago and shuddered. What animal ferocity would the opponent face if he crossed swords with Boromir in a real battle?

My mind had drifted in the most inopportune time, which happened to be every second while I was fighting Boromir. He swung hard, but I was not ready and in my attempt to flee backwards I stumbled over a stone and my back hit the hard surface of a tree.

Trapped, trapped like rats.

He lunged at me and I tried to duck away. He caught me against the tree and held me pinned there. He leaned over me barely panting while I stood wilting under him, gasping like I had just run the mile. My breathing was not helped by my terror and the wild thumping in my chest at his close proximity. He grinned down at me. The lion had caught the gazelle. He raised his blade, my eyes widened and I looked up at him in surprise.

_"Do you surrender?" _

He frowned meeting my eyes, _"I am not going to hurt you Eileen."_ He added with a laugh, but it held no humor and died in a short breath as if it hurt him. He lowered his blade and slowly brought his hand up to my face, it was warm and scratchy. My breath hitched and I stared straight into his gray eyes. I inhaled his musky scent mingled with a variety of other smells; leather, cedar wood, the unmistakable smoky smell of winter. He brushed a smudge of dirt off my cheek with his thumb. His face was leaning so close over mine. I felt dizzy and giddy and lightheaded, it was like everything he did was intoxicating.

I sharply turned my head.

He promptly backed up and I made my escape. I could feel his eyes following me as I walked away, or maybe I just hope I felt that. Had I offended him, oh how I hoped not. I inhaled sharply. How he already hurt me, I had to put up my defenses. I couldn't help falling into his deep gaze or desperately wanting to see him even though I knew nothing could come of it. Like a child slipping backwards when climbing a slide. Wanting desperately to climb up and meet her playmates, but always stumbling and sliding down. In her childish fancy she even wants to slip back down and abandon herself to irresistible gravity, to feel that unexpected thrill. I was falling head over heels for He-Man and it felt exciting and new every time I fell. But he was as unobtainable as the cartoon. A lord among men they called him, forty years old, proud, strong, handsome, kind, funny… this isn't helping.

He probably thought I was just some weird kid who preferred to act like a boy than a normal middle earth woman.

But his hand on my cheek.

Nothing, it was nothing but concern. Why do you always try to squeeze the meaning out of smallest the smallest things?

I laughed suddenly, well if he thinks of me as a child than it was harmless to remain around him. I would feel happy for the short time and he would not be affected either way.

Playing with fire, sooner or later he would burn me I knew, but I didn't care at the moment. That was the future and this was the present, I could slip backwards one more time.

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He watched her retreat. He had not meant the motion to upset her, but rather to soothe. Still, he could not say he regretted it and could not explain why. Her bright blues eyes and startled face were burned into his memory. His hand tingled with the feeling of her soft skin. He watched as she walked on and then laughed. A warm sound full of life. If only he found that kind of joy in life. He no longer felt carefree and careless. And yet she could make him feel young and careless. With her he had no station, no obligations, no war, just the day and the moment. She perched herself on the fence and he came and leaned next to her.

"_Are you well."_

"_Yes."_ She laughed but he saw bitterness in her eyes, "_You baby me like a father_."

He tried to laugh, but her words stung him more than he cared to admit. Did she think of him like that, an old man who harped over her, told her to control her temper and not get mud on her dress. Yet he was old, at least compared to her. And she was young, gloriously young, like he had been many years and responsibilities ago.

She was rubbing her hands and he saw that she had blisters. He had forgotten that the rough hilt would probably chaff her skin. He was so used to the hard calluses of his own hands and the other men who he sparred with.

He took her hand in his to examine the sores. Her hands were so soft, almost as soft as her face. He had not felt such soft skin for a long time. He was too often in the battlefield to spend time with ladies of the court in dance or other merriment. For that matter her hands were too soft to belong to a commoner, those women had rough hands almost like a man's from their constant use of wooden brooms and corrosive soaps. She was of noble lineage in her former land. That was also plainly displayed by her proud nature which would have been stamped out of any scullery maid or farmer's daughter. Another piece to add to the puzzle.

He looked at her face, but furrowed his brows at the pained look in her blue eyes. He let go of her hand fearing that he had hurt her blisters. The look was wiped off as quickly as he had noticed it and replaced by a smile.

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_COOKIES THIS WAY MY FRIEND_

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	12. More Than One Departure

_I have been trying to turn myself into Tolkien, but i haven't been very successful so once again i must tell you that i own none of his works._

_A/N Moving on from Rivendell today. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and am excited to move on. Sorry for the ridiculously long delay. Thank you for all your support and i hope to find new reviews. Aaaahhhhhh, reviews are so exciting. Important note, Westron is no longer italicized as Eileen can fully speak and understand it now. If you are my old friends important note as well that i have reviewed the last bunch of chapters and i haven't changed much, but there is a bit more dialogue with Boromir and Eileen no longer has a ring she got a blessing instead that basically didn't do anything but appoint her for the mission that Radagast wants her to fulfill (remedy the mistakes he has made). So you don't need to read the other chapters again but it might be helpful to just scan anything that looks new to you. Get excited for the next stage though!  
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_PS have you guys seen the harry potter 7 part 1. It was AMAZING. Everything was just fantastic and it was so dark and suspenseful like the book. Anyways read and review._

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**Ch. 12: More than one Departure**

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"PANTS!"

I shrieked as I ran around in circles.

Boromir grinned.

"Go, on then try them on." He pointed to the door of the armory and I slowly walked in examining the quantity of buttons, strings, and clasps on my new clothing. Boromir closed the door and waited outside.

It can't be that hard I told myself looking at the pants and shirt. Fifteen minutes later I consoled myself by thinking that beginners take time to learn the art of dressing. Finally redressed I looked at my reflection in a round silver shield.

Eww.

The pants were cut straight down giving them the appearance of oversized mom jeans. They were also too big around the rear and front and looked saggy. Although I guess one should expect this when getting a piece of clothing designed for a man. The shirt wasn't too bad, though it did make me look like a rather scrawny pirate. The cut of the pirate-shirt was also for a man and so it was very baggy. On top of this I was unsure how tight to tie the strings at the collar in order to keep the decency required of me while still not looking completely ridiculous.

"Are you finished yet," Boromir called, "the day is waning fast, my lady." Did I detect a little smugness in that snipe?

My cheeks burned. I didn't want that nearly Greek god see me in this god-forsaken outfit. "I-I cannot." I stammered as I glared at my reflection.

"It can't be that terrible." He laughed, "I'm coming in are you decent."

'Yes" I grumbled, he opened the door. "No-no." I shouted realizing that he would come in and see me in this ridiculous costume. Too late the deed was done, though my outburst did make his face light up with shock thinking he had come in too soon.

I looked sullenly at him as he crossed the floor. He gazed at my outfit and could not contain a burst of deep laughter. I glowered at him, crossed my arms, and tapped my foot impatiently.

"Don't scowl so my lady," He laughed, "It makes you look even more like a thieving little urchin."

I grumbled and pushed him out of the way, hopefully into some spiky stuff. I needed to get going anyway as midday was my departure. I guess you could call this misfit outfit a farewell gift.

"My lady," Boromir called.

"I am not a lady, I'm an urchin. Or did you forget." I gestured at my person.

"Don't be sore little urchin." He entreated, "I would not want to part in such a way."

His voice had turned sober. My chest tightened and my breath quickened. A rather unfortunate phenomenon as it makes breathing very difficult. I didn't trust myself to speak so I just kept walking, but I fell back to keep in step with him.

Olin and Durvin had elected themselves as my guardians on the journey to Lothlorien. A kind gesture that I was very glad of, but also impractical as they had no idea how to get there, so Elrond had appointed a ranger to lead our party. I believe his name was Nodthunor. I wonder how long the trip, or excuse me journey as Durvin so insistently informs me, will be. I hope it's not cold. Check that, it will not be cold or else I may decide not to go… Are mountains hard to breathe on? Probably. I hope my ears won't pop like on that road-trip to Shenandoah National Park. How far are we even traveling? Do we have a map? If this Nodthunor gets us lost I will have vengeance.

"What are you thinking of little urchin." He seemed to ask this a lot.

So, so many things. "Not much."

"You're too quiet, I know you are thinking… and you were staring."

At what pray tell…. Hopefully not at you Boromir, because lord knows I do it enough consciously and I might start scaring even myself if I stare at you unconsciously.

"I was only thinking of my journey."

"Are you afraid?"

"Why should I be?"

"Do not take offense, it is only natural." He looked into my eyes and grabbed my arm, "I have gone on many journeys and I know how frightening the first one can be. You know you can tell me."

Did someone just suddenly set me on fire, because I think I'm melting inside.

"I need no help," I replied quietly.

"Are you sure you would not like to take advantage of the dearth of personal experience that stands before you." He grinned down at me.

Why does he have to be so agonizingly adorable?

"I-I'm just…" His hand slid down to squeeze mine. "Unsure." I mumbled with downcast eyes.

"Well, you needn't worry your mind about that." He smiled reassuringly, "I would be a poor Captain indeed if I left my little soldier out in the wilds without a sword."

I raised my eyes and smiled, "You didn't"

"Do you not believe me, not trust me. Did you think so little of me to imagine I would no longer look after for you?" He mocked.

"You won't be able to look after me where I am going." I shot back, "Now give it to me, sir, unless you be a liar."

"I shan't anymore, Lady Urchin."

I poked him in the ribs. "Give it."

"Nay, you little witch. Your spells have finally worn thin"

I started to pull on his tunic and pockets in search of his secret. I grabbed his cloak and saw the sweet shine of metal.

A large hand came down in front of my search and to my terror descending in menace towards my stomach. The irresistible giggle began and soon I was doubled over trying to protect my ticklish belly.

"Stop," I gasped, "I forfeit. You can keep it."

"Did I train you to give up so easily?" He grinned devilishly.

"Fine" I squealed and kicked him squarely in the shin.

He howled in pain and I made my retreat. The enemy glared at me and then smiled wryly. I smiled sweetly back.

"Do you know what this means, little soldier?" He said in a low voice.

"What?" I said leaning forward a little.

His face split into a wicked grin, "War."

I scrambled backward as he lunged forward. He managed to grasp my hand, but I wiggled it free making a mad dash down the hall.

"You laugh at me like Luthien must have laughed at poor Beren as he emerged from the woods covered in filth from the mountains and wide eyed in his zeal." He called.

I knew I could not outlast his strides for long, even if my considerably smaller legs were pumping as fast as they could.

I wheeled into a side passage. Dashing under long, hanging sheets and around pools of water, I had stumbled into the washrooms. A warm hand grabbed my arm from behind and I nearly fell flat on my face.

"What are you doing," I shouted angrily, "You nearly threw me to the floor, Boromir."

"Why would you suspect the Lord Boromir of doing such a thing?" A woman's voice questioned sharply.

"Mirima!" She almost gave me a heart attack; she could've at least announced herself.

Boromir suddenly came blundering through a sheet, panting and looking thoroughly disheveled. His mouth was spread in a huge, beautiful, toothy smile, which slowly disappeared under the icy, bordering on disgusted glare of Mirima.

"Lord Boromir," She swept into a curtsy, still gripping my arm, "you look very… vigorous this morning."

He bowed shortly, "Good Morning to you Lady Mirima." He said tersely.

I looked between the two, was there some family feuding going on that I missed out, because if so I will be very angry that I was not informed or at least invited to the airing.

"Good, good. Now that we've all met can we move along?"

"We'll meet you at the gate." Mirima said coldly. Boromir nodded to me and left.

"What was that about?" I hissed when he left.

Mirima wheeled me around to face her, "You ask me! I could ask you the same question, running around like a whelp, and with a grown man no less."

"It was only play." I started.

She cut me off, "Play! Play is for children and you are no longer a child Eileen. Look at yourself you are a grown woman now, and let me assure you it has not gone unnoticed." I turned red, "Yes, you blush now, but I warn you my friend not to involve yourself with men. You may be a woman, but you are young and have no experience of them. I should have thought he at least would know how to behave."

"Mirima, stop. You are my friend and a dear one, but do not presume to know my life or how to live it." She looked at me angrily, but I put my hand on her arm, "Look at me, really look at me. I have never been one to fit into the standards and customs here, why do you worry so now."

She looked away, "Because I do not trust him."

"Him, or humans?"

"Oh no Eileen!" She exclaimed, "It is just you are so young. I do not want you to get hurt. I see the way you look at him and how your eyes follow him."

Was I really that obvious with my staring!

"You do not understand what you are falling into. He is a soldier, even if he is a high ranking one. He is married to his city and keeps that ever beckoning mistress war. If he is not false then it is all the same for his mistress will soon get jealous and take him away. For sooner or later the Captain of the White Tower will die and he will be naught but a name chiseled into the side of a stone and the memory of man."

"No do not say that. Please." I begged her. "There are no feelings Mirima, you misunderstand me. Boromir is my… friend, nothing more." The lie felt hard to get past my tongue.

She looked directly into my face, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

We had reached the main gate. Elrond was waiting with Boromir, Olin, Durvin, Aragorn, Pippin, Merry, Frodo, Gimli, Gloin, Bilbo, Sam…. and basically a bunch of other people, but more importantly there was also a man in dark clothing with dark hair and dark eyes.

As I approached I could gather more of his features. He was built like Aragorn, but more slender. He was older with a few streaks of grey in his dark hair. His face was marred and his chin mashed as if he had taken a blow from a baseball bat. His face was set in stone and his dark eyes were so intense that I could not keep contact with them.

Elrond announced the purpose of the gathering and that my time of departure had come. "This is the Lady Eileen," Elrond gestured to me, "And this is the Ranger Nodthunor son of Tyrthunor, kinsman to Aragorn." Nodthunor bowed to me and turned his black eyes to examine me.

I felt intensely uncomfortable under that piercing gaze and hardly heard what Elrond was saying in his farewell speech. How was I going to survive a two month journey with this guy?

Before long Mirima was embracing me tightly, "I am sorry if I angered you." She whispered in a hoarse voice.

"How could you?" I said hugging her back. I could feel the tears pricking at my eyes and nose.

I turned to others to say goodbye and eventually met Boromir.

"The time has come for parting." He said sadly.

I could feel a lump forming in my throat. "I'm going to miss you," I looked up into those beautiful grey eyes. I composed myself, "All of you." I gestured around me.

"You have all been most generous and caring to me, even though I had no claim upon your hospitality." The host nodded solemnly.

"The journey must start now lady." Nodthunor spoke, "The sun is already high in the sky."

I turned to Boromir and gave him a quick hug. It felt so wonderful. He held me tight in his arms, those strong arms engulfing me. The smell of winter: that smoky, piney scent lingered on him.

He pulled out a sword from under his cloak. Earenecet! He handed it to me, "I did not forget." He grinned and winked. I turned red for about the tenth time today and grabbed it.

"Thank you my lord."

I hugged him again under the excuse of thanks. (Please don't judge me reader)

"Remember, I will come for you," He whispered in my ear, "And then I shall take you to my city."

I cannot tell you how many times I replayed those words in my head and imagined his warm breath on my ear. But over the next few days, trudging through forests pulling beetles off of me and my gear every few minutes and with the cold becoming an ever increasing companion, there was his voice haunting me and his face floating before my eyelids.

We had taken horses with us as and I was able to keep Herbert. Olin and Durvin rode their ponies Kusur and Bumli. Nodthunor had a swift grey gelding Grymeyst. Nodthunor had insisted on steeds not only for my comfort, as I was little accustomed to traveling, but also because he pressed the need to cross the Red Horn before the snows made it impassable. So each day we raced across the woods towards the ever looming mountains. And each night I nursed my raw and bleeding hands and legs. The nonstop riding had taken its toll and I had to choke back sobs by the fourth day as every stride sent shocks of pain into my raw thighs.

Only one more day before the calluses come I would whisper into my bedroll.

So this continued even on the side of Caradhras. Nodthunor had noticed my pain after a couple of days and had given me ointment, which greatly helped.

"We are making good time, but the Red Horn loves to spill blood across its fresh snow. We must cross with all haste before the blanket falls." He remarked as I gave him a grimacing smile.

The few nights we were on the mountain were horrendously cold. There was no shelter and we would be covered in a thin sheet of frost in the morning. But that made riding wonderful, because I was numb with cold and unable to feel my legs or hands.

After ten days we had crossed the mountain and the worst was over. Only ten days? No, it would more appropriately called a haze of pain and cold that blended into one hideously long day.

Well, thank god that was over. On the bright side my calluses were finally starting to come in and the ointment was working miracles.

We were riding in the open plains toward the Elven stronghold of Lothlorien. Olin and Durvin sang rich folk songs in their own tongue and I hummed along. Nodthunor rode in his usually silence, sometimes stopping to stroke his mangled chin or turn his black eyes upon the sky.

"I see you are finally speaking again Eileen," Durvin remarked, "no more moping about and limping like a wounded dog, eh wench."

"Yes, you are riding like a proper woman of Rohan now." Olin chuckled, "Or do I detect a slouch."

I rolled my eyes, "You are old and your eyes fail you, so I will forgive you your misperceptions." I grinned back at him.

Olin chuckled, "Wit is it? I think I liked you better when you couldn't speak and just gawked at everyone and screwed up your eyebrows."

"Blind as well!" I exclaimed, "What a pity."

"Now don't get so saucy, else we may be disposed toss you into a puddle to cool you down." Durvin interjected.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh yes I would!" Durvin shouted. "I've tossed many a wench in a river for-"

"Silence." Nodthuron held up his hand.

He gazed around with his sharp black eyes. I clutched at my reins. The sun had sunk low in the sky, bathing the world in an obscene red glow. I felt the hairs rise on my arms and shivered. Durvin placed his hand on his broad sword.

I heard it before I could see it. A _thrummm_ and a soft whistling sound. The arrow came flying out of the trees and found its mark in Kusur's flank. The pony's shrieks filled the air and suddenly a chorus of other shrieks joined it. Durvin went down as the shrieking magnified.

Herbert reared, screaming, and I toppled backwards. I hardly knew where my feet where, surely my head was under something, but was it really my legs? I don't remember detangling myself, but I must have for I suddenly found myself stumbling to my feet. Durvin was bellowing curses and Olin was shouting. A shadow cast itself across my path...

A horrible, yellow eyed creature screamed in my face. Blowing rancid breath into the clean air, I dry heaved while trying to pull out my sword, _Earenecet. _Why was this taking so long, for godsake come out! The shadow cackled and raised its sword; my hands were sweating and kept slipping off the grip. The creature lunged, but something came from behind me and cut off its head. Dark blood spurted out where a head was seconds before, spattering into my face and turning my vision hazy and distorted. Someone grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me violently, Nodthunor. He was shouting at me, but it was the sting that brought me back. He hand came down hard on my face and knocked sense back into me.

"Stay by me" He shouted. I wrenched my sword out and the next creature to come painted the blade with its blood. All training was forgotten. I just slashed, hacked, and dodged in an almost out of body experience. I saw now that Durvin was trapped under his horse, only his upper body was visible and Olin was defending him against an onslaught of the creatures. Is this what orcs look like? These mangled, blackened, pointy-faced, little creatures looked more like demented children, twisted beyond recognition, than fierce warriors. Nodthunor was leading me to them, spinning and slashing in a methodical dance.

My hands were slick with blood and my eyes burned from sweat and still we could not reach them. Olin cried out as he was struck and he fell to the ground. Five creatures swarmed over to Durvin and plunged their bloody daggers into his body and the body of his now silent steed.

I screamed. Desperate to reach them. I struck one in the side, another across the stomach, spilling his insides onto the dirt. The third was much larger, I struck wildly for his ugly head but he ducked and lunged for me. I leapt aside, but the blade still bit me. Deep into my thigh it dug. The creature was momentarily blinded by the setting sun and I stabbed it in the chest. I stepped forward, but fell from the severe pain in my left leg. The darkness around my eyes swelled shut


	13. After the Smoke Clears

_Disclaimer: The usual in order to save my hide from any infringement i own none of Tolkien's works._

_A/U Ahhh, where to start. I'm sorry... for the endless wait and my ridiculous laziness. Anyways past all that i hope you like this chapter its a bit different from the others in that Eileen is starting to really realize what kind of a world she is dealing with and whatnot. I hope you like it and would love some feedback if you thought it was good, so so, or a whiny pile of poop. Haha, i hope the latter is not your conclusion. War is war so sorry in advance for the changes that will go on in the story. AHhh enough of this on with the story. _

_... i will give all my reviewers a shiny new dum dum... in my mind. So review i love it!  
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**Ch. 13: After the Smoke Clears  
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**The first time I awoke was to the jostling of a horse.

Someone was gripping me around the waste and holding me in the saddle, but that did not stop the constant bobbing of my head.

The ground lulled back and forth, back and forth. My leg burned, my head ached.

I looked at the blurry scene unfolding before me. Green clumps rose up all around and I could see a horse in front of me with a tall figure sitting atop clutching a rope that led back to my horse.

The second time the scene had reformed and I can't remember if I was really awake or not. I was seeing someone's face. It was my mother, no Radagast, wrong again it was my brother, no it was Boromir, no Olin ahhh that's not right either! The faces kept blurring together and reforming until the only thing I was sure of was that someone was bending over me dabbing my burning forehead with a cool rag and whispering. They sometimes sang softly when not attending my face. Every so often they would deem it necessary to set my leg on fire or stab it with needles.

At other times the consciousness was even less clear. At one moment I would be walking through a forest, arrows whizzing past me. Animals screamed in their unnaturally high voices. Then I was walking down the street, hearing the bells jingle as I walked into the CVS down the block. It was at times like these I felt the most confused, because while the situations felt real, I was also acutely aware that that world no longer had a place for me. It was as if I did not belong and was invading someone else's private memories.

It was in one of these stranger dreams that my eyes slowly opened to soft singing. At first all I could see was chunky shapes. Then slowly my eyes began to focus and I could see that 'they' were really a plump woman. She was bent over a piece of cloth and was vigorously stabbing it with a needle. She looked old to me, stooped over with her long nose pointed earthward and her eyebrows twisted in concentration. I tried to ask her who she was, but all that came was a cracked groan.

Her head came up almost reluctantly from her work and I was surprised at how young she really was. With her features diverted from her task she looked very young and soft. Her round face was accented by her highly arched brows and plump lips.

"Up at last, mellonin?" She said to me.

I just gaped at her.

"I dared not stir you because you needed your rest. But often a night your slumber would frighten me. It seemed unnatural still for one so taken ill as you and I feared you might never wake. But no matter your wounds were not too grievous for the elves of Lothlorien to administer to."

I moved my mouth, but no words escaped.

She handed me a glass of water as if by instinct realizing what I had intended to say.

"Water heals all wounds with time and the waters of Lothlorien heal better than most." She smiled sadly at me, "It takes many different waters to heal all wounds."

Where was I? I felt so confused. It was as if I was back in Ohio and all the crazy things that had happened to me over the past few months were just some dream, but it seemed I was wrong. I looked around the room at the very Middle-Earthish setting. We even seemed to be up in a tree. Nope, it seemed I was still in fairytale land.

"You were taken bad in the head, my lady. The ranger said after your leg you were knocked over the head."

What leg, what ranger. Did she say my head?

"The ranger, Nodthunor. A silent, strange mortal that one."

Nodthunor, the journey, days on a horse, calluses. Oh, of course how could I forget. But there was something else. A sunset, arrows, screaming…

"He brought you both back tied together to a horse. I'm amazed the Lady of the Woods let you in at all, but then again he was so far gone that he'll remember less than you will. And that is little enough."

Both.

There were three others beside Nodthunor.

Me, Olin, and… screaming, blood, stabbing. Durvin.

"The dwarf man is in a sorry state. Some wounds take different waters." The woman was saying.

"Who" I managed to squeak out.

She looked at me surprised. "Who, why the little old dwarf. Taken ill. A fever blazing hotter than yours did and his age is a trying factor. It was an arm and eye as far as I can recall, though I haven't had sight or sound of him in nearly a week."

What was she saying and why was she saying it as if I already knew.

"Please," I croaked, "tell me everything."

And so I listened and was drained out of any emotion by the time she was done.

Durvin dead. Slain while still under his horse. Buried in haste by Northunor and left alone in the cold ground without a word of farewell from his longtime companion or I, for we were both unconscious from blood loss. Olin had lost his left arm nearly up to his elbow trying to shield himself from an oncoming blow during the frenzy. He also had his eye gouged out as he fought for his life on the ground in his own blood.

I had come off mercifully spared in comparison.

A large cut in the thigh was all I received, but this wound bled copiously. I also received a head wound as an orc attacked me from behind when I stumbled. Nodthunor was the only one relatively unharmed and he had given rudimentary first aid to Olin and me and then strapped us to a horse and made all haste to the Golden Woods.

And so here I was. Emerging from a fever after who knows how long and with my list of friends thinning.

I tried to slide out of bed, but when my left leg hit the floor I let out an involuntary shriek.

The woman, or elf, I guess rushed forwardly.

"Impatient Child!" She exclaimed grabbing my legs and tossing them back into bed. Who knew she could be so intimidating. I sat very still, daring not to move lest she decide to throw me out the window instead of into the bed.

She began to press on my leg and I hissed in pain. "Good, no tearing." She said more to herself than me. "That should teach you not to go flinging yourself out of bed with a wound such as that."

I nodded nervously.

For the next few hours we left each other in silence. And oh how many time I cursed her in my mind for leaving me in silence and cursed myself for not speaking up, but I hardly felt that I had the power to open my mouth anymore let alone try and formulate words. And so we sat and left each other to their own task, she to her sewing and me to my thoughts.

What agony your mind can inflict upon you. I tried to stem the thoughts, to bend them to my will but I couldn't master even my own head. Inevitable my thoughts would wander to screaming, that obscene red sunset, cruel yellow eyes, dirt, blood. My first encounter with war. Then the questions came, one leading to another. How could anyone stay sane in such a world? How did a soldier live after this death? Why in god's name did I remember that first stroke so well? That thick sliding of the blade as it cut through the flesh, the jagged scraping of the steel sliding along the edge of some bone. What would my mother think of me if she knew what I had done? How I had killed? When I walked through a room would people be able to see my secret filth if they looked at me? Surely they would understand, wouldn't they? I had to do it. It was either kill or be killed. And yet, I could not forget that first stroke or the way the creature's mocking grin transformed into a twisted grimace. That creature. Did I call it that to ease my own guilt? Maybe by saying it was just some kind of an animal I could make myself believe it. How did Boromir do it? How could he kill hundreds of those… those things and seem unperturbed? Would he still look at me with kind, smiling eyes if he saw the way I dragged my sword through the flesh and along the bone of my foe?

I tried to pull myself back out of my thoughts, longing to experience that detached mindset I had when I was killing. I could drown in such questions, but I was not yet ready to give myself up. I still knew at least the reason for my actions. I wanted to live and the only way I could accomplish that was by taking away the life of those others.

The room had turned dark and my attendant was storing her days work in a drawer as I was trying to shove mine into the dark recesses of my mind.

"Be calm." She said soothingly as she pulled a blanket over me, "It is time for rest now, drink this it will ease the pain." She handed me a cup of wine. It felt sweet and tangy on my tongue and burned in the pit of my stomach.

I closed my eyes and felt the memories of my home, my real home flooding back. My mom's round face smiling at me and telling me "to go to bed it was late," my dad with his thick mustache whistling tunes as he cleaned up the kitchen, my little sister whining that I had eaten all the ice cream, my older brother ripping open the door and the dog running to jump on him. New memories started to invade, ones that did not feel like they belonged but brought on sparks of recognition. A man's voice floated through the scenes like an echo. He spoke as a young woman applied for a job. He spoke as she was running to the door. He spoke as she sat old and spent in a chair. He spoke as she cried and then he started to appear. A letter was clutched in her hand spotted with tears and the stains of past ones. She unfolded it. Missing, he was missing in action, but she knew it was really a blank disguise for dead. The photo fell out of the letter she bent over to retrieve it dreading but still itching to find out for sure whose face would smile back.

The voice became louder in her ear and she was gradually beginning to revert back to me. We felt jostled.

I looked up into a face. The dark hair hanging down hid the face for a moment before I saw the square, lightly bearded jaw and that beautifully crooked nose of Boromir. My eyes traced the several fading scars on his face and then they found his eyes looking back into mine.

"You were crying_." _He said.

Was I? I brought my hand up to wipe my wet face.

We were making our way through the halls. He was carrying me.

It felt so wonderful that for a moment I closed my eyes and just imagined what it would be like if this were real. If this was not just him carrying a crying child back to her bed. My whole body ached, my heart was tearing because of the closeness and yet the infinite distance between us.

Is this what love feels like? This empty, gaping hole yearning to be filled. To be loved in return, to be wanted, to be needed.

If that is love then I wish it did not exist. If all it was bent on was to give me pain.

"Why?"He said abruptly.

"Why?"I echoed. Why what? Why do I suck myself inward? Why do I continue to torture myself? Why can't you see? Why do I want something more? Why do I want love? So many questions to why, but none of them I can answer.

"Why were you crying?"

Why wouldn't I be crying? I'm surprised at my self-restraint now. But he couldn't see any of that, any of the internal agony that he could create with a friendly glance or caring tone. He could not see the volcano erupting under the surface of the water.

And still I would do anything for him. I thought back for the original reason for my distress. I couldn't remember.

"I just feel so… alone."

The strong arms around me tightened. I grabbed onto his shirt in a tight grip to stop my emotions, but they brought on other emotions. I ached to bury my face in his chest, to breathe in his wintry smell, to feel the steady pounding of his heart, but I just grabbed a piece of cloth.

He did not say anything. He did not need to; his presence was more than enough to satisfy me.

He stepped into my room and placed me on my bed.

He leaned over me and placed his hand on my cheek. It was the same feeling, scratchy and warm. He lowered his face to mine. Slowly, almost hesitantly. I felt frozen. Was this really happening, were his lips coming closer and closer to mine. His calloused hand ran down my neck. I closed my eyes and felt my heart beating rapidly, about to burst out of my chest. Then his lips connected with mine in a crash. They were warm and scratchy, I could feel the hair of his beard on his lower lip. I wound my fingers in his thick, soft hair. His hands were on my back and suddenly his grip tightened and I was crushed against him. I was on fire, that was the only explanation for it.

Then all of a sudden he was just standing there and I was racing backward frantically reaching out.

Don't go! I screamed.

I shot up out of the bed. Disoriented and sweating. I took in the room in confusion for a moment or two before realizing that it was only a dream.

Oh, Lord. What is happening to me?


	14. Roasting Rocks and the Doom they Contain

_The usual disclaimer, I don't own any of Tolkien's great works._

_Ahoy readers! Sorry I've been cast into the depths of the ocean for many a day. Ok, enough with the charades, I have been inexcusably neglectful in my duties as writer, please find it in your hearts to toss me a bone. And maybe throw in some sharks with laser beams attached to their heads as well. Just kidding, just kidding. This chappie is pretty fun and light hearted as I felt like the last few were real Debbie downers! Enjoy and please review you do know how I love them! Did you like it, hate it, love it… hint the third one is the correct answer…_

**Ch. 14: The Roasting Rocks and the Doom They Contained**

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At least I have the time and the cane to perfect my pimp walk. Bounce. Strut. Bounce. Strut. Always swing the cane. Repeat. The formula is simple enough I assure you but it's a bit tricky when you have been recently stabbed in the leg.

Yes, I was on the mend. And it would be going quite well with my mending and pimp-walking if it weren't for all these blasted stairs.

Don't get me wrong Lothlorien is possibly the most beautiful place I have ever seen. The Golden Woods they call it and rightly so. The trees towered around me reaching upward like the majestic points of a crown, breathtakingly swallowing the sky in their blankets of leaves. And the elves here never tire of reminding me of their glorious home. But I mean seriously, its one thing to live with nature, but this is just ridiculous.

It was cool for maybe like the first five minutes of actually trying to move around the huge platforms atop the trees.

By and by I managed to find my way over the jungle gym of ladders and platforms to Olin's room.

He still wasn't doing so hot. I tried to ease his pain, but I knew it wounded him when I avoided looking at the disfigured hole where his left eye used to be.

Panting and yearning for the days when three flights of stairs were considered the limit I hobbled into Olin's room.

"Hey Olin." I cheerfully gasped out upon entering.

He rolled over and smiled his best, trying not to disturb the missing part of his face.

"Good Morrow Lass."

"Oh, so it's not young lass anymore." I said slyly, collapsing into the closest chair.

"Oh, no. I fear you are getting much too old for that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing is that." I egged on grinning.

He sighed sadly, turning my lighthearted feint to dust, "A great too many sorts of things."

The unspoken loss hung in the air. He did not want playful banter or harmless chatter. He no longer had the heart for it. Neither of us did, I was just better at pretending.

And so day after day I would climb those god awful stairs and hobble into Olin's room and before I knew it I could amble in and Olin would rest calmly in a squishy arm chair.

It was during these days by myself that I got more acquainted with my wild side.

No, not running around naked, though that is a secret desire I will harbor in me until the day I die. Blasted societal decency.

Every day I would hike out of the confines of our massive tree fort village and into the hilly forest.

Along a clear stream that steadily grew more turbulent as I trekked upstream. At the source point was a crashing waterfall. Surrounded by a band of pine trees. A cliff cradled the waterfall and lake like a hand shielding a candle from the wind. It was sunny, bug free, and most of all hot beyond belief. That candle metaphor I was talking about wasn't just some fancy word art it was literally like a ball of fire in there. There was no breeze due to afore mentioned cliff, the black rock soaked up the heat like melting pavement, and the lake reflected the hot rays of the sun back into your face.

All in all it was the perfect place to roast and then cool off in the lake. An added plus was that, like most ape-like children, I love rocks. I don't know why I must have been some kind of a lizard in my previous life, or a mountain goat. Ahh, so sage. At any rate I just love to climb on rocks. The cliff provided an ideal place to perfect my climbing skills and then bask in my glory as I reached the top.

Ok so the point of this description is to first of all make you jealous and second of all to describe the place that would be the source of one of the most traumatizing periods in my life. And by traumatizing I mean nightmares about going to school dressed as the hamburglar traumatizing.

So I'd been having a few nice weeks all to myself in this strange new place, perfecting my calf muscles on the bajillion stairs and gaining the sunburn of the century at my waterfall, right. Well this is all fun and games until I started to realize that all the elves were sort of assembling themselves. Everday they would be systematically preparing for something, I don't know when precisely I had this feeling, but it was like watching an anthill working. And all of their efforts culminated at the great tree in the center of the village. The big kahuna as I like to say or where the queen bee lived.

Anyways back to the traumatizing part. So I was sitting at my waterfall in my roasting rock when I start to hear this low rumbling. At first I thought it was the heat getting to me and I started to try and lift my sweat soaked arm when I became aware that I had heard that rumble somewhere before. And then the shaggy, blindfolded face of Gimli popped through the bushy entrance to my cove. I screamed, and then I fell into the water. And then I screamed at how cold the sudden change of environments felt. Overall it was a rough day for my vocal cords.

Gimli was making strange sort of grunting noises like a wild boar.

"What are you doing you great oaf!"

He looked stupidly around. "Show yourself!" He bellowed

"I'm right here you goob."

"Where is this Goob! Untie me at once!"

Then I noticed the source of his grunting efforts, not only was he blindfolded but his hands were also tied deftly behind his back. I scowled at him.

"What _have _you done without me Gimli son of Gloin!"

He seemed to finally register who I was as I made my way towards him and out of the lake, sopping wet and looking like a drowned rat.

"Ah, milady Eileen. Never fear, I will dispose of this Goob once you help unhand me from this elven trickery."

"You are the goob sir." I untied his ropes.

He quickly yanked the cloth from over his eyes with his free hands.

"The sweet smell of freedom and-" he suddenly looked aghast, "Great gods woman! Robe yourself!"

At this I felt a little more than peeved. I had just freed him from certain death by falling into a waterfall and then he pulls another why-are-you-so-naked-in-middle-earth. Until I looked down and realized to my horror that I was indeed in my underwear and bra.

Hey don't look at me that way reader, this place was to my fullest knowledge utterly deserted except for me and in case you hadn't noticed middle earth doesn't exactly have bikinis up for sale at every village butchery.

My face was rapidly reaching dangerous shades of red, into areas of red never previously explored as I was already red from being burned. "GET OUT!" I screamed in what I can only begrudgingly admit as girlish squeal.

His head was only yards behind me in the race for red and he quickly clamped his hands over his face and fell into the lake.

But no oh no, reader, that was not the extent of my humiliation, the real clincher, the real traumatization if you will, was yet to come. Apparently the people who had captured Gimli were hot on his heels and had chosen this moment to tear through the thin shrubbery that looked worse for the wear. The stopped abruptly, however, upon finding me. In all my soaking, burned, mostly naked glory.

"My _Lady_!" gasped an elf with a face that looked like he had inhaled something silent but deadly.

Gimli had by this time resurfaced and decided now was as good as any time to save my honor. He ripped his soaking bear skin cloak from of his back and flung it at me. The now nearly alive ornament hurtled through the air before attacking me and knocking me to the ground.

It was in this state, soaking, sprawled on the rocks, with a sopping wet bear skin on top of me that Boromir and Aragorn entered with their elven captors.

I groaned. It could be worse, it certainly could be worse. How? I don't know. It could be camel hair I guess. No, don't think that, who knows what Aragorn carries in that trench coat of his. I don't want to tempt the fates.

The elves scrambled around me and I realized that by the grace of God, Boromir and Aragorn still had their blindfolds on.

"What is going on!" Boromir bellowed, "I demand to be unblinded."

Boy you have no idea what kind of shit just hit the fan, calm down and sit pretty. I didn't say that of course, mostly because I didn't have that kind of vocab in Middle Earth but also to save the last remnants of my fallen dignity.

The elves were poking and prodding me as they tried their best to wrap me in a bear skin cocoon. I had had enough and been restored to my sense when I realized that the two ruggedly sexy companions of mine were safely blinded for the moment.

"Get off! Get off of me!" I knocked my shoulder into the stink faced one, who looked like more toxic fumes were assailing his nostrils.

"Lady Eileen!" The second blindfolded person said stupidly this day, it happened to be Boromir. I found it in my heart to forgive his stupidity and blamed it on the faults attributed to his entire sex.

But I simply could not forgive him for miraculously, or demonically, ripping his hands free and tearing the blindfold from his face as his eyes ate up the surrounding trying to locate me.

Well, I can't say that I have ever complained about a man eating up the landscape trying to just see me, especially when that man happened to be a 6 foot tall hunk of handsome. I will admit it was a little disconcerting though.

I thought his eyes would bulge out of his face when they alighted on me. I couldn't blame him much, but god did he have to stare so blatantly.

"My Lady, are you- are you quite well?" He asked with an air of skepticism that clearly said he thought is was quite unwell despite anything I might say. Then he seemed to switch his focus, silly man. "What have they done to you!" He asked darkly, narrowing his eyes.

I wrapped the bearskin around me tighter trying to melt into the cloak. It didn't work very well.

"Nothing in particular that hasn't always been there." I shrugged

"Ahoy, Lady Ei- oh… Oi! Pip, look what Eileen's got, she looks like one of those goat spirits that Old Bilbo always said eat children in the night."

Ah, wise words from Merry.

I spread out a hand sagely, making sure the other was tightly securing the bearskin in place.

"Welcome to Lothlorien, my lords."


	15. Nearing Rockbottom

_Oh Heeeyyy! As per usual i don't own any of Tolkien's writings only this computer on which i am typing._

_ Sorry for the long wait again mateys. Back to morbid dwellings again, sorry chaps! But this chapter is some much needed interaction between Boromir and Eileen. Don't worry the swoon worthy stuff is yet to come. Please, please, please review! I love any ideas you guys have, thoughts, or future suggestions. What did you hate, love, meh. Mind cookies to all who review, mmmmmm... mind cookies._

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Despite the embarrassing spectacle I made of myself I felt good. In fact, I had never felt so good in my whole life. It was back to the way it used to be. Back when I couldn't speak Westron and was walking around violating every law of decency this land had. Back when Olin had an eye and Durvin a life. Before I knew how to hold a longsword. Before the sight of Boromir made my heart stop.

Everything was back to normal right… Isn't it pretty to think so.

Everything was thoroughly abnormal. Olin was now Olin one-eye. Frodo had two eyes but they looked sunken and puffy. And Boromir…

Could Boromir see into the black spot inside me, the corner I had pushed into the caverns of my mind where I knew that I had killed someone. Even an Urak Hai can feel pain. They're just monster, soulless and evil, but hadn't Gandalf once told me they were elves just like Mirima, tortured beyond recognition until they hated themselves so much they lashed out at the world. It was all they knew. Was I a monster too for lashing back at them? When is killing the best option? It was kill or be killed. The world is a big place and nothing is sacred. Everything is exposed in the gleam of the blade. _Kill or be killed._

A leaf sunk, bathed in the blood of the sun pouring generously from the sky. _Kill or be killed_

I think he could see the darkness in me. That's why he didn't- couldn't look at me anymore. I had been happier than any coy creature should admit when he had feverishly looked at my fur clad self. Despite the general humiliation, there was a triumphant voice crying in my ear. _Such a man wants to look at you. He sees you and he likes what he sees. He sees what he saw. And he took the saw and cut a hole in your heart and now you can't fill it with all metal in the world._ Other such riddles the voice whispered in my ear. All singing to the same tune.

These riddles didn't give me any real satisfaction. In fact they disturbed me more than anything. The mind plays tricks on a foolish person. I was foolish and Boromir was forty years old. He saw me, yes there was no doubt. He sawed me in half, but he never _looked_ at me. I was nineteen years old. A kid. A baby. Newly hatched from jailbait.

Since thinking about riddles suddenly turned sour, I turned to the next closest thing: puzzles. And in fact one of my favorite things. A pretty fair trade off if you ask me. I need to get me a good old fashioned puzzle. The kind I can spread across a table and sit there relishing the concrete victory over the cardboard as I slap each piece in place. I stretched out my hand and placed an imaginary piece onto an imaginary table.

My hand never made it to the table. I snatched it back and instead awkwardly ran my fingers through my hair.

The object of my thoughts just so happened to be standing sullenly around the corner. His arms folded stiffly across his broad chest. It looked like he was trying to blow things up with his mind.

I've always wanted to blow things up with my mind!

I approached slowly. I didn't want him to blow me up after all.

Boromir turned my way with haunted eyes. Everything slipped from my mind. Those eyes didn't blow things up they watched as things blew out of their control. Those eyes that I had revisited countless times in my mind. Those eyes that were always full of life, with excitement and turmoil boiling under their grey waters, were now haunted and dull. This frightened me more than any gruff rebuke or sudden jolt could.

He wouldn't look at me. God he still wouldn't look at me.

I grabbed his arm. A desperate act to connect with him and defy his maddening distance.

"I am sorry Boromir. For whatever wrong I have done."

He stared past me.

"It was done unknowingly I assure you."

Still he stared.

I wanted to punch him in his stupid, stubborn face. For ten days he had been like this. I had been looking forward to seeing him for weeks and what do I get; a stone sculpture of what I wanted.

"You know why it was unknowingly done? It was unknowingly done because I never did anything!" I spat at him, "You bitter old man."

I spun on my heels. I felt like I had just stabbed him with a sword that had no handle. It stuck him fast and that made me feel a dark pleasure, but at the same time I could feel the blade twist into my hand and bite into the bones in my fingers.

Before I could exit with this stinging, childish jab, he caught my arm. It hurt. Not in an abstract I am stabbing you with words hurt. It actually hurt. I decided to inform him. These I'm-so-tough-men often didn't realize when they were being too aggressive.

"Remove your hand sir," I sneered sarcastically, "You are bruising my fair skin. And after all a little lady like me has nothing if not her soft skin."

"Aye," He curled his lips in a smile that looked more like a snarl, "but you are no lady are you."

Oh that hurts, it really does. Does he think I give a rat's ass about being a lady. "Your right. I'm not a lady. I'm common Eileen Byrne. The suspicious outlander. The whelp with no home. The town whore if you like."

"No lady speaks in such a low manner."

I laughed derisively, "Oh, but I'm not a lady my good _sir._ How else is a simple girl to earn her keep in this world?" I replied sweetly.

He threw my arm back in disgust, "I seem to have mistaken you wench, it seems you do need your _fair skin_ after all."

I narrowed my eyes to slits, imagining I was crushing him between my eyelids. The insufferable man.

"I am overjoyed at your compliance."

"No need to tell me girl, I've seen more whores than I can count in the streets of Minas Tirith. It is only a wonder I did not recognize your- occupation before. You do have that certain freeness of character so common of your kind."

"Your ignorance surprises me. I had thought out of anyone you would be the first to notice. The knowledge of your… acquaintances preceded your arrival."

He froze, "You dare- No one spits on my honor in- If you weren't a woman!" He bellowed. I believe I hit soft spot.

"Don't play innocent milord. It doesn't suit you." I motioned to his forehead with a vague gesture, "Gives you wrinkles."

I thought he was going to slap me then and there. Instead he just whispered, "I would never have thought it of you Eileen. I suppose I truly was a fool to think highly of you."

Oh God but he did slap me or else no slap ever stung as much as those words.

He turned to go. I had been winning. I had thrown everything he sent my way back at him with a spinning edge but he still struck me down. Now what was I supposed to do? Why does everything I touch turn to shit?

"Please-" I breathed. He stopped upon hearing my breath or maybe he just felt it. Sometimes I felt like I could feel him breathing as I lay in bed with nothing but the sheets to hold me. Could he feel me breathing too?

"I'm sorry. I didn't- I wanted-" I wanted so many things, "Just- just tell me what's wrong. Just say it. I'll listen."

He turned to me and for once his eyes were full upon my face boring into my eyes. I immediately regretted wanting him to look at me. What could he see in me with his eyes as grey and cold as steel. I blinked suddenly and looked away.

"How could a peasant girl like you ever understand? It's folly. You've proven that to me with your own words. Your just a child."

"Oh Boromir." I wanted to reach for him but dared not move, "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it! Something came over me, possessed me. It's this place, it's this dark, it's that ring that has everyone on edge! Hasn't anything ever you possessed you before?"

His face twisted, but in agony or anger I could not tell.

I recoiled, but I could not abandon him to his dark thoughts. It was as if all his coldness and distance was an unrelenting magnet that attracted my devotion. He needed me. For the first time in my life someone really needed me. The realization struck me with such ferocity that I was able to gather the courage to press him again.

"Tell me. Please tell me. I will understand."

His coldness collapsed like a wall. It was as if he was repelling me because he was afraid I would repel him.

"I don't know, I just don't know. Ever since _she _looked at me, spoke to me, I can't seem to think right." He paused, "It's like when I was a boy and I would look on as my mother sat languidly in the chair by the hearth, grower paler and more listless with each day. The feeling of dread that slowly eats away and the knowledge that there is nothing you can do to stop it. _I can't stop the inevitable." _He whispered in desperation.

"What can't you stop?"

A shadow passed over his face and he took to mumbling. All I could make out was "…destroyed, everything destroyed."


	16. The Challenge

**_Disclaimer: Woe to me i don't own the mind of Tolkien... or his books._**

**_A/N: So here we are once again at the start of another chapter in our lives... ok, ok enough of all this Mr. Rogers jazz as i was very hasty in throwing up the last chapter it seems i have forgotten to put in the chapter that explains many a question. Oh my! So here it is! And once again any and all comments are welcome and i will freely grovel for them, please i beg of you! Especially because without out them i would have this hefty-well rather short really but all the same- this important chunk missing. Thanks you so much my beloved reviewers and review again!_**

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**The Challenge**

Eyes.

Eyes of blue.

Eyes of green.

Eyes of light and eyes of smoke.

They stared at me from around corners and out of shadows. Each time I lifted my hand to greet the owner of the eyes I came closer and realized they were simply fireflies and stars.

I lay on the ground looking up into the infinite space above me. I wondered if my finger could fly off my hand could it ever reach the farthest eye.

I felt so safe here in Lothlorien, despite how Boromir seemed to be fading away with each arrival of the stars. I didn't know what to make of him. One moment he pushed me away and the next he was pulling me back.

To hell with it all.

With all my mooning and brooding I had forgotten what my true purpose was, what Radagast had told me to do. _You must be the one to carry on my mission… the blessing of Yavanna._

But what exactly had been his mission? He had spoken of saving animals and forests and of the treachery of Saruman, but where could _I help_ in any of this. I had none of the special abilities he possessed, I was weak, I often got scared. I was not a warrior princess.

_What could I possibly hope to do?_ I silently asked the night sky. The galaxies gave no reply. I hadn't really expected them too.

_Damn things kept all the answers to themselves. _

"Show me your secrets!" I shouted.

"Who are you speaking too, blessed one."

At this rather disconcerting title, I slowly turned my head around only to have the purest sight assail my eyes.

White.

White was all I could think of when I saw her.

"Are you a star?"

The tingle from bells floated out of her laughing mouth.

"No my dear. I think you are closer to being a star than I am. From whence do you hail my lady?" She asked with a knowing smile that made me think she knew very well _from whence I hailed._

"America, but I'm sorry who are you?"

"I am the Lady Galadriel, child."

So she was the big kahuna…

I sprang up from the ground and as I was at a loss for what to do so I settled with a poorly executed bow.

"No need for that. I have seen many things in the waters of time and your fate is one of them. Come, follow me blessed one."

And I did.

I followed her through arches and over stairs until we finally reached a secluded garden. This garden was one I had never seen before and in the center was a basin of water. She was standing over the basin and when she looked up at me her eyes seemed to stare through my flesh and towards something beyond me.

"Come, look into the waters."

I slowly advanced on the basin, afraid this might be a trick or something, but it wasn't. It was only water.

"This is no ordinary water."

I jumped and looked swiftly up at her. _Was she reading my mind?_ Trying to empty my mind of any thoughts she could intercept I looked once more into the bowl. The water began to swirl and my head felt like it was swirling with it. Colors were flashing past me, over me, and into me and they caught hold of me and dragged me in.

Radagast was sitting hunched over a chair with a few swallows fluttering around him. He cradled his hands in his head.

"What have I done? What a fool I have been? Blind to see what was right before my eyes. Saruman the white, Saruman to powerful, Saruman the wise. Fallen. And I fallen with him. I have failed you Yavanna."

_Do not lose hope, my child. You have bestowed my blessing and I honor it. _The wind spoke as it whistled through the window.

He lifted his head. He did not seem to hear the response that was so obvious to my ears.

"Eileen, my pupil, wherever you are in this land hear my plea. I have given you my blessing and beloved Yavanna's as well. Please, take it and undo the wrongs I have wrought." He bowed his head again.

I reached out to comfort him but before my finger tips the colors began to reform and I drew back in terror as the weary form of Radagast churned into a thousand orcs.

They howled and ran and torched everything they touched. Every one of them was distinct in its terribleness, this one filed teeth, that one mangled arms, another with lumps protruding from his every feature. Men were there too, with dirty faces and darkened eyes. However, in all their differences there was one thing that always remained the same; a white hand stamped on their chests.

They came upon a village and in their rage started to burn the houses. Then a horrible shrieking sound filled the air as men, women, and children tried to flee their homes as the doors were barricaded by the hundreds of fiends.

I tried to cover my eyes but the colors were burned in my mind and the scene kept on playing as people jumped out of their windows only to find filed teeth and long nails waiting under their sills to tear them limb from limb. I pressed harder on my face trying with all my might to stem the horrifying vision.

A soft hand caught hold of my shoulder and drew me back.

I looked at the hand and then slowly traveled up the arm to a white lady.

"I know what you have seen."

"What can I do? Are they doomed?"

"No, I do not believe so. You were brought here for a purpose, blessed one, but until that purpose is fulfilled the future will not change. I must ask you to join the fellowship on its journey. That is where you path now lies."

"I will go my lady, but I fear you are putting your trust into the wrong person. I am nothing. I am no one. Gandalf himself said that the blessing gave me no real power."

She smiled softly, "Mithrandir is right, my child, but that is the way with blessings. Their power lies in their choosing. It was no accident Radagast chose you. The blessing chooses the receiver and its choice is always the best. Perhaps this knowledge will embolden your will."

I could not find any words to say to this, but luckily she relieved me of the duty to do so by speaking herself.

"Take this ring, my child." She held out a band stamped with the crest of a tree. "When all seems lost, know that it will be found."

She placed the ring in my hand and I slipped it on my middle finger.

"Now go."

"I will…. but why me?" I pleaded for her to answer.

"Ever do the children of men seek to place their fate onto others shoulders, but the future does not wait for the whims of man. So I ask you; if not you, then who?"


	17. Hitting Rockbottom

**_Disclaimer: don't own Tolkien's work._**

**_A/N: HEYYYYYYY! Back again little buddies. sorry for the long wait, hope you enjoy this one its a bit on the angsty side but also quite juicy haha. As usual I love reviews of any and all kinds including grammar tips and suggestions for the story. And let's play name that lyric line. I believe there are a couple in this chapter. Search away!_**

**_ALERT WEE ONES!: I ADDED ONE CHAPTER PREVIOUS TO THIS THAT EXPLAINS WHY Eileen LEFT WITH THE FELLOWSHIP IN THE FIRST PLACE! _**

**_SO CHECK IT OUT OR BE DOOMED... to being confused.  
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**_Hitting Rock Bottom_**

The elven boats were faster than horseback and the Anduin ran swift, but the days still felt longer and the hours more awkward as we sat crunched in a canoe. For the first couple of hours I had sat up stiff in my seat, trying to preserve my "personal bubble." We were now on day three and I had ceased with any unneeded courtesies. I now freely slumped against any and all of my boat-mates, and they did the same.

The boats were divided into groups of three. Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam in the lead, Boromir, Merry, and I in the middle, and Legolas, Gimli, and Pippin bringing up the rear.

Olin had decided to stay some time with the elves to recover. Our parting was bitter. It isn't something one likes to dwell on. He was like a second father to me and I couldn't fight back the feeling that this was our final goodbye.

We made a sorry little caravan and a sore site, but you have to admit that at least Aragorn tried to divide the weight evenly between the three boats, although Boromir had snuck in a few grumbles about a certain ranger getting the lightest load. I could have been miffed by this slight to my physique as after all Sam was definitely fatter than me, but I chose to take higher path.

Our boat really did get along despite this, Merry and I in particular. We tried to whittle away the time by playing games. I enlightened him to the classic road trip games of "I Spy," "20 Questions," and "Team Storytelling." His were a little bit more colorful such as "The Ballad Game," "Things that are Edible," and his own brand of a staring match that allowed for distractions such as intense tickling, which nearly upset the boat several times and was thus outlawed by Boromir.

We kept Boromir entertained most of the time and the rest of it he was driven close to insanity. Although, "The Ballad Game" was a favorite of his and one I was completely useless at because I knew the names of about two songs from Middle Earth.

"I spy with my little eye… something blue."

"The sky"

I shook my head.

"The water" Merry chirped.

Negative.

"The bluebells… Boromir's cape... My ring. That bird. That other bird. Your shoes. Your eyes. The pebbles. Boromir's sword hilt. His eyes, his ring, his coat of arms, his vest, his doublet?"

"Doublet and vest are the same thing. No!"

"For pity's sake! Stop listing every item of clothing I posses!" Boromir shouted.

Merry and I looked at each other. We burst into laughter.

"Is everything you own really blue?"

"No. It was a figure of speech."

"But most of it is?"

"I suppose so. Gondor's colors are silver and blue after all and as son of the steward and high captain I am meant to embody my land, colors and all- Oh, yes it is a very funny joke isn't it?"

Merry and I were cracking up again. I couldn't help it. I mean every time we gave him a chance too, he went on and on about Gondor.

He huffed and bent hard into the oars, causing Merry and I to flail backwards.

"Oi!" Merry yelled as he collided into my chest sending me backward.

I hit the surface of the dark blue vest to find that it hid a firm chest. Boromir did not sway, he merely grunted in annoyance and Merry and I tried to collect ourselves and sit back up. Although, I don't think I would mind leaning about that blue vest for a while longer, maybe a day or so would be nice…

I giggled. Merry looked at me with a glint in his eye. I laughed and before long I found that I could not stop and I was hunched over and Merry was viciously tickling me. I thrashed about and squealed like a wee baby pig.

"Merry- stop- can't take it- dying!" I struggled to formulate my plea in between gasps.

"STOP!" Boromir bellowed, but not before I felt myself kicking and giggling my way over the side of the canoe. Merry squealed.

"Eileen!"

My eyes widened as my grip on the side of the boat slackened and it tipped to the side. Suddenly I was jerked back and held fast in a strong arm. An arm covered in a deep blue.

_I think I could stay this way forever. _

_Not that again, that's how you got into this mess in the first place. _

_Then let me stay there._

"My lady. Eileen-" Boromir was asking. "Are you well?"

Quite.

"Y-yes. Forgive me. I seemed to have come undone." I tried to make a wise-crack on my complete loss of self-control and descent into girlish giggling, but the comment rolled off my tongue in a strangely serious tone that betrayed my real thoughts.

"You would have come to more than that in a few seconds." Merry laughed.

I tried to make a similarly sly comment, but found that I could't think with Boromir's arm wrapped tight around my waist. It fit so perfectly, like his arm was made to hold me and me alone and I was made to be the only one aware of the fact. My cheeks were heating up, betraying my external composure. Boromir seemed to notice and quickly retracted his hold. Things were getting very awkward.

"Let's play 'I Spy'" Merry blurted out.

"If I have to hear another utterance about 'my little eye…'" Boromir muttered mutinously.

He was grumpy a lot of the time, but after all he did have to row the boat by himself.

And there was something else, something sinister lurking behind his ever-growing short temper and ill-mood. Something that I think I could put my finger on, or rather through. It affected all of us, that tiny ring with the gleam of greed and gold.

Boromir took to brooding more and the light heartedness of the first few days quickly faded along with the memory of our security in Lothlorien. He began to turn into himself. He wasn't alone in this. Everyone was growing reticent and sometimes we went for hours without uttering one word.

I felt trapped inside of my head as there was no one I could turn to to relieve my burdened mind. Something was not right with the river, with the shore, with the woods, with the world. A shadow was creeping up on us like a thief in the night. Sometimes I felt like I could feel the thief approaching and I would glance over my shoulder or sharply look into the faces of my companions.

Paranoia plagued us and soon everyone was seeing shadows in the sun.

* * *

Upon waking up the first thing I noticed awry that day was where I was. I had gone to sleep amongst my nine companions but had not woken there. I was in the middle of the forest. I think I sleep-walked. I used to do that when I was younger but thought I grew out of it. Stranger things than that had been happening of late, though. Boromir had taken to talking in his sleep and everyday he grew more reserved and fidgety like a beaten dog, and it made me scared. _Beaten dogs are always the most vicious. They have nothing left to lose._

Leaves stuck to my hair and clung to my clothes. I got up and stretched my legs and breathed in deeply of the sharp, crisp morning air. _Morning. Another morning that will soon fade into night and start all over again. How many more mornings can we hold together? _The ring was wearing away at everyone. Even Aragorn could not hide the bags under his eyes that had slowly advanced in shades of purple.

Now all I had to do was find my way back to our ragtag crew. _Great._

Easier said than done I decided two hours later with sweat trickling down my face, shinning in the midday sun. _I wonder if they're looking for me._

The answer came sooner than I could have hoped for because at that moment I heard a timid voice straining to call out my name.

"Lady Eileen." The ghost tried to call through a broken voice.

"I'm here!" I shouted waving my arms at the little hobbit who manifested out of the thick trees. "Thanks goodness you found me, I have been wandering around this godforsaken place for ages."

"Yes, yes it is good to see you." Frodo said absent mindedly. He looked distractedly off into the distance, ignoring my person entirely. He was the one who found me, after all, so I didn't complain. The world doesn't revolve around one person. It dips in and out of orbit weaving between comets and stars and galaxies before it even begins to touch the life of one person. But out of all the people it touched this little hobbit was the closest creature alive to the center of the orbit. The world balanced on his hands and his hands balanced on the edge of a knife.

I didn't say any of this of course, I simply said, "It's good to see you too."

He nodded and kept walking, "The camp is that way." He pointed vaguely in the opposite direction from where he was headed. _Thanks for the great directions._

"Where are you going Frodo…" He looked at me sharply like I had caught him in a lie, and clutched at the collar of his tunic.

"Nowhere, nowhere. I just need to think. Think it all through, yes, some time to think."

Another wary look was directed at me, but I couldn't pull my eyes away from the way his fingers twisted around something just out of site. Something struggling and pulsating and very much alive. A soft whispering carried over to me. I started forward, but halted.

"Go."

He did and the trees quickly swallowed him again.

I stood there feeling more lost than before. Time seemed to slow as I stared down at the veins on my hands. My senses seemed to heighten. It was quiet. Too quiet.

A cry rent the still air. _Frodo!_

I cut a path through the thick overgrowth, eating up the distance between me and the cry with long, even strides. I wanted to be ready when I found the attacker, not winded and disoriented.

But God when I saw that attacker my heart was clenched by little icy fists that tore at it with fingernails adorned with daggers.

I watched from afar while Boromir struggled with the little hobbit. My Boromir. _How can I save him from himself? If the devils are in your head how can you kill them?_

"Boromir! _Boromir!_"

I ran towards them. Frodo was shouting frantically. They were both twisting this way and that and before I knew it I was too. We thrashed and spiraled over each other until we were longer distinguishable from one another. Iron fingers, long hair, stubby legs, hairy feet, blue cape, crushing arms, frail wrists, crooked nose, all was melded together until we were transformed into a writhing mass of many limbs on the forest floor.

That is, until I got a fist full of dark hair. I wrenched it with all the power I possessed.

Boromir grunted loudly and his arms instinctively shot up to pull off the offending hand. Frodo shot out from the fray, his legs pumping faster than I would have thought possible.

My hands were thrust away and I cried aloud when one iron fist twisted my wrist behind my back. I was pulled into a stiff chest. With his other hand of steel, Boromir shot out and grabbed at Frodo's cloak. Just as his fingers came down to clamp the hem of the cloth I brought my free hand down hard on his outstretched forearm. He bellowed, no howled like a mad dog before scrambling forward and falling in his failed attempt to arrest the hobbit. He dragged me down with him. My eyes watered from the stinging in my wrist.

"Boromir" I gasped as he nearly crushed me under his fallen weight.

He seemed to have forgotten me although his grip never did. My utterance brought him back to the heap of a human underneath him.

"You…" he said darkly, pressing his arm harder on my wrist, digging the knobby bone into my back. Little flecks of light popped up in my eyes as I was crushed against the ground. I opened my mouth to try and bring him to reason, but all the wind wheezed out of me.

"You want the ring for yourself!" He howled. _A mad dog_. "You would take it and deliver it Sauron. I see your mind now!"

I couldn't feel my wrist any longer, but any lost feeling there was made up by the pain exploding in my back were it was dug into.

"N-no." I tried to shout but it came out as a coughed whisper. "I would never- how could you say that- _Boromir._"

"Yes, yes. Now we get to the heart of the matter. I should never have trusted you. I didn't at first. The dark lord sends orcs to do his work, yes, but his worst minions are pretty little birds, like you, who come in and sing pretty little songs that melt hearts and entice a man to let down his guard. How many men have you sang your song of deceit to pretty bird? How many have you killed for Sauron?"

"BOROMIR!" I screamed.

He stopped.

That was it.

It was over just as quickly and absurdly as it had begun. He just stopped as if he had fallen out of a trance.

We both sat there on the ground, too stunned to move.

Slowly, his shoulders lowered and he slumped over. "Oh valar," He raked a shaking hand over his face, "What have I done… forgive me… I am falling apart." His shoulders shook like an old man

He wasn't old though. He was strong and proud and fierce and he was_ mine_. He was mine and I was his.

I was trapped in an invisible web weaved from flesh and blood and bits of sinew, from pieces that belonged to both him and I. But there was something more than just the physical to this entrapment, something had spun the web together and kept the bonds strong when they threatened to break. Something that was not made of mere flesh but of our very souls and somehow I knew that if he fell apart there would be nothing left of me.

"I won't let you fall apart." I said defiantly, challenging whatever fates there were to defy me.

His shoulders shook a little more. He let out a short burst of breath, an unconvincing laugh.

"I was supposed to protect you…" He whispered. The bitter sarcasm, the desperation, the disappointment, the- the tenderness in his voice that was never there before cut down any resistance I had left in me.

I lifted up my hand slowly. Hesitantly bringing it closer to him. My heart began to beat in my chest, thundering against my ribcage. I held my fingers close to his head, hovering inches from it without any concrete decision if I would let it fall or not.

He leaned his head. Slowly. Deliberately.

The movement hypnotized me. My hand was frozen.

His head leaned with gentle insistence into my palm.

I was rooted to the spot. Fire was spreading up my face. Butterflies, no, spiders were crawling up my stomach and exploding in my chest.

"Eileen…" he whispered as he slowly turned those eyes, those eyes that had been just a moment ago cold steel, onto my face. They were broken metal and their jagged edges tore into me. My breath hitched. I closed my hand around his head. He was soft and real and there and I knew in that moment that this piece of me, the piece that was somewhere in him, was beating and humming and alive. It was dancing on the web that connected us, trapped in this excruciating perfection.

The leaning was now extending to his whole body and he leaned into my arms. I gently combed through his hair as his arms wrapped around me. I tried to take in air through my lungs but found that they had shrunk to a third of their size in half a second's time. I was held tightly against him. His hands were burning through my clothing and searing my back. My pulse raced out of control. My heartbeat so loud that I marveled my whole body did not tremble with the reverberation.

And then there were my fingers, and I closed my eye to find that my entire existence was the senses in those fingers as they brushed through his hair. I had no eyes. I had no mouth. I had no body. All I had was fingers and I was running through a soft tangle of thick blackness.

Years. Minutes. Seconds. Time makes no difference to fingers.

I realized I had eyes when I opened them and saw him staring down at me. Those eyes that stared at me were still full of the same jagged steel. _He sees what he saw. And he took the saw and cut a hole in your heart and now you can't fill it with all the metal in the world. But you never suspected he would take the whole and split it in two. Who can live with only half a heart?_

I was never meant to solve riddles. Only make them. So I did the only thing a person can do when they find out they have only half a heart. I ran.

I ran and I ran and I ran. Until I fell over some worn stone stairs and collapsed in a corner. He was repulsed by me. He had nothing but pain and pity in his eyes for me. And if he really wanted me too… well that was scarier than not. I was just a kid, just a stupid, silly girl who likes to imagine a knight in shinning armor and a man who carries her into a white city. Was I ready for that? Was that even real? Of course not!

Love. To love. The definition itself requires vulnerability. To open oneself to another. To depend on them for their own reciprocation of the feelings.

I was afraid. I had been alone for nineteen years. I had been content to be by myself, help myself, think of myself only in the singular.

Then he came along and shattered everything I had so tirelessly built. All my walls, all my carefully constructed doors where people would calmly walk through the building of my soul without entering the secret parts of my heart. Collectedly waiting in the visitor's room for me to arrive. But he was not content to sit there, he smashed my walls and broke my doors until everything I had was exposed to him and now I was helpless. I would never be the same again.

Yes, I was afraid.

I curled into a ball. Hoping to find consolation by clinging to myself. It had worked before, so many times before when I felt lost. But not now. Not now when I was no longer my own. I willed myself to weep for my lost solitude. I wanted to cry and then force myself to stop and feel the power I had that I was able regain control over myself. It was in vain. You can't stop the tears that won't come.

The only thing left to do was leave myself. Leave my broken heart and fly far away from my frozen body. I laid there, curled in the corner of a stone ruin, willing my soul to burst out and float away. I dreamed about flying time and time again, but always found the same frustrating moment when I stood there flapping my arms in a desperate and futile attempt to take flight. This moment seemed to be a recreation of my nightmares as my mind wished to soar away but my head stubbornly stayed on the ground.

I don't know how long I laid there. Immobile and struck dumb. The forest was as silent as death itself, but a horn brought me back to life.

Its deep call was something could not decipher, but its effect was immediate. The call was irresistible, my limbs were instantly renewed and my body was drawn up to make chase after the sound that tunneled through my mind erasing any other thoughts.

I crashed through the forest as the branches slapped me in the face trying their hardest to dig their little nails into my skin. Blood mingled with the tears that I found were pouring down my face. I recognized who was calling me.

_Boromir…_

I was overcome by an otherworldly passion as I bent down and scooped a fallen stick off the ground. It was sharp. Harsh cries rent the air.

_Orcs._

_Boromir._

They seemed to spill out of the forest. Screaming and gnashing their teeth. I vaulted over a fallen tree and smashed my stick into a chest. _Kill or be killed. _The stick couldn't penetrate the armor. It slipped and instead stabbed the creature in the shoulder right between the breastplate and the shoulder plate. It roared, flailing its arms wildly and stumbling madly. I wrenched the curved blade from its hands. The horn sounded again.

_Boromir!_

Straight ahead. I dodged left. Then right. Left, right, backward, left, forward. An orc sliced into the air where my arm had been a moment ago. I drove onward, slicing into the neck of a creature and running ahead.

The world was turned upside down. Everything was madness and I… I maddest of them all. An orc was bending his bow aimed at a man in a clearing. Two smaller men were hiding behind him. My mind rebelled. It was not Boromir. It could not be, but it was and the arrow was pointed right at him. _Everything was madness and I maddest of them all_. I hurled myself at the creature, I was not going to reach it, my arm was too short, the leap not long enough. I threw the sword at it as I crashed into the dirt. I didn't see, but heard the blade hit its mark as the orc bellowed in outrage.

The next thing I was aware of was white spots dancing in my vision.

My head was on fire.

Something was trying its best to rip out all my hair in a single tug. The something wrenched me up so that I came face to face with a creature that had eyes like molten fire. Those eyes must have set my head aflame. It was the only explanation for the burning that laid hold of my scalp. Well, the only explanation my scattered mind could come up with at the moment.

I twisted, trying to wriggle free. It didn't work. The creature rasped out a laugh and spit into my face. It smelled like rotten meat. I nearly vomited. I turned my head.

The orc grabbed my jaw in its scabbed, grey hands. "Saruman never mentioned a she-man. Ugluk will see if the she-man bleeds red like men."

He grabbed my hand and brought it up between us, "Ugluk will see if the she-man tastes as good as men." He grinned with a mouth full of filed teeth. Before I could scream he bit into my hand and ripped off my forefinger.

Then I screamed.

He laughed.

He was laughing into my face and the smell over powered me.

It was rotten meat and blood and fear. I couldn't hold my stomach. I vomited.

Ugluk roared with anger. Everything was hazy, I barely heard him over the pain ringing in my ears as he bellowed, "The she-man will learn to eat her filth before spilling it on Ugluk." His fist smashed into my stomach and I crumpled as he dragged my away.

I was screaming, at least I think I was screaming. My mouth was open but no sound came out. My shoulder was, at any moment, going to rip from its socket. Ugluk bellowed threats from the other end of my arm. "Ugluk will tear off every one of the she-man's fingers and feed them to the dogs. Ugluk will rip out the she-man's eyes and feed them to the crows. Ugluk will cut out the she-man's insides and feed them to-"

My mind was slow. My entire existence was pain. The throbbing in my hand. The sharp tearing in my shoulder. Salty tears streaming down my face. I was going to die. _Please, let me die now. I want to die now. _A whirlpool swathed in black and icy cold was thundering in my mind. _You already chose. You chose life and life is what you received. _Oh God, help me!

A figure stepped slowly out from behind a tree like an apparition in a dream.

"Where are you going with that she-man?" It wheezed.

"Ugluk does what he wants. Reznak should know better than to stick his stinking nose where he is unwanted."

Reznak licked his lips. "Surely Ugluk is not going to eat the she-man by himself. The others would be so angry if they didn't get any… fresh meat." I nearly vomited again.

"Ugluk is captain for the white wizard, what can stinking scum like Reznak do if Ugluk does?"

"The red eye is wider than the white wizard's. It sees more, it knows more." Reznak slid sideways.

Ugluk bellowed in anger and dropped my arm. "Ugluk will make Reznak eat his lying tongue and then feed him to dogs!"

The dogs would be getting a feast today.

Ugluk rushed forward and Reznak jumped backwards, whipping out his own rusted sword. I saw my chance. And I got the hell up and ran for what felt like the millionth time that day.

I blundered through brush and under branches until I reached a cliff face. I looked over it and my head swam. A sheer hundred feet drop cradled a deep, dark pool of water. The falls were adjacent pouring themselves into it. No time for second thoughts. _All the world was madness and I maddest of them all._

* * *

_**Dun, dun, duuun...**_

_ ** and review here... for cookies of course**  
_


	18. The Breaking of the Fellowship

_**A/N: I have decided to dispense with the disclaimer because if you haven't already discovered that I don't own Tolkien's work by now, well, then you are in need of some serious help and may be my favorite person for such flattering obtuseness. Yay for mistaken identities! Moving on, this next chapter is a winner i think, mostly because i had forgotten how fun it was to write from Boromir's perspective. Enjoy! And as usual i am offering free cut off jeans for anyone who is a never nude and/or reviews. Any kind of comment is appreciated whether it be "faaaabulous" or "you are a trashy turd!" Although you may induce me to weep if you follow the second example... weep with tears of joy! Reviews always brighten my day!**_

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**The Breaking of the Fellowship  
**

* * *

She had left him.

Her delicate fingers streaming through his hair were no more. A phantom tingle was all they left in their stead, but nothing more than that. She had set him on fire, his very soul aflame and then dumped icy water over him.

He had looked into her eyes to see if maybe, just maybe, they would let him see into her mind, to see what this meant to her, to see if she was also on fire. But all he had been met with was utter confusion and despair and then she had fled.

He supposed he shouldn't have been expecting more. He was a monster. She had seen that well enough, but for a moment when he had clutched her in his arms her body made him forget that, made him think _she_ could forget that.

_Fool!_

How could she forget? When he had betrayed every trust she could ever have placed in him. Pity was the all that her was in her embrace… pity where he wanted passion.

He rubbed the spot on his chest where she had placed her left hand as she employed the other with comforting him. She was _his _and he could not have her. Implausible. She was a contradiction in her very essence.

Damn her.

Damn him.

Damn the aching in his chest and the phantom fingers in his hair. Damn it all and see if he cared!

He abruptly stood in a defiant act to dispel his thoughts. He walked slowly, measuring each step in relation to the other. They were all about the same length. The army did that to a man, making even normal activities methodical. He wished he could make his mind obey the silent orders his limbs did. He was not in control of situation and for that he was ready to hate her. Yes, to hate her, even if she was the most intriguing, the most soothing, the most enchanting…

This wasn't helping.

He didn't know what he wanted from Eileen, but whatever it was he had almost gotten it and then she had dashed his hopes away.

When had a bloody woman caused him to come so undone? Was he not a soldier? Was he not the captain of Gondor? Was he not heir to the steward? Then why should he let some slip of a girl cut down his pride? What a damn fool he was to call her _his_ or _enchanting_ or any other green thought that popped into his twice cursed head.

He never had need of a woman before and he'd be damned if he did now.

He turned his lips in a twisted grin. She was probably hiding somewhere now, in that childish manner she always seemed to adopt when she was disconcerted. He had been a fool to indulge in her caresses. He would learn to regret it even more when they returned to the boats. If she was stiff in her seat before, she would be positively statue-like now

And why in seven hells were there no noises in the forest to drown out his thoughts!

He halted. This observation did have some merit.

It was quiet, too quiet. In fact it was silent as death.

He soundlessly drew his sword, carefully twisting it out of the scabbard in order to avoid disturbing the stillness in the air. He held it out before him and balanced on the slope with his left hand spread out. The wind whispered in his ear telling him tales of what lie ahead; hundreds of labored breaths, grunts, shuffling.

_Orcs._

Suddenly it was all around him and a sickening dragging noise seemed to roll up from the very earth itself.

Then a harsh cry broke over the woods.

He sprinted towards the camp. He had to warn the others, but before he could deliver his dire news he ran Merry and Pippin.

"Orcs are upon us, Milord Boromir!" Pippin gasped.

As if he didn't already know!

Suddenly the shuffling was manifested into pounding and orcs poured over the hilly terrain.

Gods, but how would he defend them by himself? He grounded himself. _Men of Gondor never fall to despair._ He brought the horn of Gondor to his lips and trumpeted his call for aid.

He planted his feet, poised for strike. Then the wave broke over him. The first one came up to meet its doom. The wretched creature never got a chance to bring its sword up in battle as Boromir swiftly slashed his blade across its neck.

It had begun.

He hacked and sliced his way through the dance of steel and everyone who came to meet him fell. His mind was bent on a single purpose; to kill and not be killed.

He gave two more blasts of his horn before he swung his sword around a great brute of a creature. It cried aloud as its hamstring was severed. The cries fueled his endeavor as he drove his sword through its chest.

There was a madness in the fury and the blood.

One. Slash. Parry. Block. Two. Duck. Sidestep. Slash. Three. Lunge. Stab. Back. One by one the motions went through his head as one by one the orcs fell to his broadsword. If this was to be his end at least he would die a warrior's death with a sword in his hands.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw an archer.

_Men of Gondor never fall to despair._

He sliced through the belly of another orc and elbowed the creature as it stumbled towards him. He looked up again at the archer only to have a vastly different doom than he had imagined meet his eye.

Eileen had never looked so small as she did in the grip of that creature. He grew frantic. The steel dance fell apart and he struck madly at his foes. Merry and Pippin were shouting around him echoing the shouting in his mind.

The creature grabbed her face as Boromir cut off the jaw of another orc. He pushed forward. _She was his to protect_. He had promised he would protect her. And yet he was utterly powerless. He almost screamed then, but the madness was too deep and he found he longer possessed a voice.

Then she screamed, a horrible blood curdling scream and crumpled in the vile monsters grasp. Her hand was oozing something thick and red and she brought up her right hand to instinctively cradle the maimed one. Though the other hand was quickly slick with the blood of its counterpart the strange ring she had acquired in Lothlorien shone through the crimson. That ring was stamped with a strange tree crest, a wild, savage looking thing with branches that twisted outward like outstretched hands and there was a single jade stone in the very center. The tiny roots encircling themselves around her finger in a smooth band were as delicately wrought as the hand they adorned.

The fury welled up inside him and without a voice it was forced to explode through his arms as he barreled forward hewing off arms and legs and heads. But he was still powerless. She was being dragged off, like a stunned ragdoll, before his very eyes and he could do nothing.

Merry and Pippin began to shout frantically. He whirled behind him, only, gods be good it couldn't be true. But his eyes had never lied before.

The hobbits were hoisted into the air and the host of orcs was draining out of the woods with their captives._ Men of Gondor never fall to despair._

He was torn.

Who to turn to, if he followed Eileen the hobbits would surely perish and if he pursued the hobbit then Eileen would- no, no he could not even think it.

He turned forward and raced along the path where she had been dragged moments earlier only to be facing within a matter of seconds by Aragorn.

"Why-" He panted, "Did you call? Where- are the- hobbits?"

"Gone" he rasped as he tried to shove the ranger out of his way.

Aragorn grabbed him roughing by the shoulders and yanked him back.

_"Where?_" he hissed.

"ORCS" Boromir bellowed in frustration, "THE ORCS YOU BLOODY FOOL! NOW GET OUT OF MY WAY!"

"_How? Where? When?" _Aragorn rejoined.

"I don't know! Now get of my way! The archer- Eileen- MOVE!"

A gurgled laugh brought them both to silence.

"Hehehe- hehe- it was a pretty thing- wasn't it"

Boromir stood stock still. "Who?"

Only half-choked laughter responded from the wretched monster crawling over the forest floor.

Aragorn took action and swiftly seized the orc around neck.

"Tell us who and I will kill you swiftly, if not…" he threatened.

More laughter. "Why Reznak- saw it all- he did. Nasty Ugluk- took off- a piece of its finger- he did." He grinned and black blood slid from out of his mouth and down his lower lip.

"_Who?"_ Aragorn pressed his sword hard against the ceratures neck.

"Why, the she-man- with the- nasty elf ring." Reznak cackled. "It got away too- but as you can see- Ugluk is- most efficient." The orc gurgled and choked. "Won't- last- long."

Aragorn sliced its throat in one swift movement and left the broken body.

Boromir was racing behind the ranger as they followed the short trail the orc had left when it dragged itself across the forest floor moments before. Boromir had to fight the sickness that was spreading across him, plunging deeper into his stomach with each word that replayed in his head.

_Won't- last- long_

They stumbled upon a clearing. Aragorn bent down to the ground and felt around.

"She was dragged here. I am sure of it." He felt forward. "But then she was dropped."

"A battle ensued over there" he waived vaguely at the kicked up dirt and drying blood to his right. "and she fled that way…" He stood up and pointed ahead.

The path was obstructed by a few trees and bushes but nevertheless they could see where it led from where they were standing. Only about a hundred meters or so ahead the earth dropped into the falls or Rauros.

_Men of Gondor never fall to despair._

* * *

The water opened its jaws to swallow me up.

I was falling. I was flying. I was floating. But mostly I was just drowning. It was a sweet doom, though. The water caressed me in its deadly grip. Running soft, silvery hands through my hair and beckoning me down further and further and further with insistent arms. I could find peace here. I knew that. But I also knew that this lover pulling me into a never ending embrace had cold arms. There were another pair of arms waiting outside of this blue world for me. Arms that were strong and warm and safe.

The water rushed and shrieked into my ears. You cannot hide your secret thoughts from water, not when it is rushing into your ears and pouring into your skull. It tumbled me and punched me. I thought it would kill me in its jealous rage. But it could not stand having my cheating body forever lying in its arms, a constant reminder to its wounded pride. So it spit me out.

Cold air smacked me in the face. I opened my mouth to receive it and felt the icy life pouring into my lungs.

I was washed ashore and there I lay as the world slipped away and I fell into the colors that were swirling around in its stead. They hit me from every angle as I slid my eyes shut and then finally blessed darkness descended as I closed my lids.

When I next opened them I wished I had not as I was immediately aware of the horrific fire spreading from my finger up my arm. I snatched at my hand trying to claw away the offending thing only to find there was nothing there. I snapped my hand up into my face and shrieked. My- my finger was gone. In its stead was a gnarled stub that just barely poked out of my hand.

I could not move. Every fiber in my being was aching for more rest and yet the burning could not be ignored and so I dunked my hand into the nearby stream.

I gasped in horror as the water seemed to have grown a new pair of teeth that was resurrecting the feeling of my finger being so disgustingly ripped off. I clutched the maimed hand to my chest and let the tears flow from my eyes.

It was going to get infected soon. I new that full well and if I didn't get sick with a fever soon I would go mad with the never ending pain that plagued my hand and snuck up my arm. I sunk back into a fitful sleep in which I woke up every couple of minutes to the sensation of hot pokers being driven into the hole where my finger had once been.

I suppose it could be worse. Lord knows he could have bitten off my whole hand with a mouth like that, but that knowledge really did make me feel any better.

After about a day and a half or so of laying in this pathetic manner I managed to drag myself up to a sitting position using my uninjured right hand.

After surviving such an ordeal as I had and then managing to keep my life after leaping off a cliff into the pool of a waterfall I simply would not allow myself to give up at the end.

I managed to hoist myself up and slowly, one step at a time, dragging each leg in front of the other I began my long trek. I knew not where I could go but simply followed the river, soon another river cropped up and spilled itself into the Anduin. I stood there for over an hour racking my brain over the maps that Mirima and I had poured over in what seemed to be ages ago.

_The Anduin. The Anduin. The Anduin. It flows over Rarous, that I had seen for myself, and leads all the way down through Osgiliath which is near Minas Tirith… but those lands where dangerous and full of foul creatures sent by the Dark Lord to torment Gondor. Boromir told me about that many times. But the Anduin is also fed by rivers flowing from- from Fangorn! And Fangorn is in the land of Rohan._

I knew that I could never make it all the way to Fangorn before I fell to hunger and exhaustion, but if I only made it to a village in the Eastfold… If I could make it to the Eastfold then maybe, just maybe I could reach Edoras and see if they had any tidings of the fellowship. My mind was finally decided and although there was a biting doubt that I could possibly be heading to my death I knew that East was where my only salvation lay.

This new river was my constant companion and only guide for days. And my diet larger consisted of water and grass.

_An unpleasant combination if you're not a cow. And although I do know I can be quite a pig I am definitely not a cow, to my current dismay._

Within about a day of my journeying my hand began to swell and the hot poker stabbing it doubled it efforts with a vengeance. It could be avoided it no longer, the wound must be cleaned…

I dipped my hand into the river and tenderly pressed the wound in a massaging motion as I clenched my teeth. Fresh blood leaked from the wound and the pain was nearly overpowering, but if did not clean it then I could lose the whole hand or even arm.

After I was sure it was a clean as it could be, I wrapped the now open wound in a piece of cloth I had torn from my cloak and thoroughly washed in the river. It was a particularly tricky thing to wrap as my particular amputation required wrapping the whole hand in order to secure the maimed part without putting too much pressure on it which would cause a great deal of pain to the tender spot.

Miraculously it did not get infected, although I had to change the bandage often and found my cloak was fast shrinking.

I sat through another night, huddled against what little was left of my cloak. Chilling late February breezes assaulted me in the darkness. My hungry stomach pounded dully on the casing of my belly, it had grown weary of the mad grumbling it had taken to early in my slow starvation and only beat feebly against the cage of my skin.

I wanted a fish.

I _needed_ a fish.

So I took up the stick I had sharpened as a makeshift spear and trotted over to the river's edge.

The sun peaked its bright eyes from over the eastern horizon, spying on my hunting. I didn't mind. His curiosity lent a pinkish hue across the land and illuminated the once dark waters.

A hint of silver shone under the water.

_Carefully now, Eileen. Carefully._

Practical Eileen whispered about in my ears. And yes, the voices were still in my head.

I slipped low next to the water and lifted my armed hand above my head while pointing the other at my victim. This rather dramatic and ridiculous pose was, I admitted, unnecessary, but nonetheless made me feel like Xena the Warrior Princess, so I continued bend my limbs in its likeness. Besides, if it made me feel better to look like an imbecile there was no one here to stop me.

"Gotcha Jen!" I screamed as I plunged the spear at my prey.

Needless to say this tactic did not work as well as planned and it took several more tries and many more minutes before I finally had a fresh fish skewered over a fire.

Now, I had never been the designated campfire builder. That esteemed position had normally fallen to Legolas, Aragorn, or Sam and now I knew why. The art of fire building, without a complete set of girl scout tools was, how do you say, a deathly endeavor.

With one hand completely incapacitated and no trees in site to provide firewood I was at an immediate disadvantage. I quickly gathered "kindling" in the form of dried grass pieces and soon had a nice little pile of crumbling plants before me. _Now for the fire part…_

I grabbed two rock. _Child's play._ I laughed to myself. _How hard can striking a spark be?_ The spirit in the sky punished me horribly for this arrogance.

One strike, two strikes, fifty strikes and nothing. I was growing desperate, pleading with the unreasonable rocks.

"I'll give you a piece of my cloak!"

The rocks stared back at me unmercifully.

"I'll even make you a little rock home." I pleaded as I took up dirt in my palms and outlined the floor plan of a house. "See, there's the kitchen and the little bathroom and-"

The rocks were clearly unmoved.

But despite their cruelness the rocks eventually cooperated and deigned to provide me with a few meager sparks. The grasses reacted immediately and were soon alight. To my horror I realized how fast the grasses were going to burn out and rushed to pile some more on top. Before long, I had a regular bonfire and roasted the fish marshmallow style over the flames. Due to my feverish hunger I did not take the time to dance around the fire, but if I had I assure you it would have been glorious. Glorious and terrible! But mostly ridiculous and involving many a hand shaking and head bobbing.

About a week or so passed in a haze. I remembered only flashes when i had endured hours. The sun beat down upon my head, no longer the curious creature peeking over the horizon but a merciless task master driving me onward over the sea of grass. The heat of the sun burned the tender flesh of my face and neck but the wind equaled it wrath as it whipped through the fields and lashed me. Yet, onward my feet dragged over plains and rocks and hills until the drumming of my footsteps echoed the drumming of my heart.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

The counts of footsteps measured the span of a day and the throbbing in my four-fingered hand the span of a lifetime. Or so it seemed in a place where only the passing of shadows across the land marked time.

One morning when the shadows began to sprout up around me i found i could not follow their actions. I could not stand up from my position in the dirt and lay huddled against the cold of the dawn.

My limbs refused to move, the hunger rolling around in my stomach had become so mutinous that it had grabbed hold of my arms and legs and bound them to the ground. My head felt heavy and my maimed hand held a deep ache that made my whole arm quake. I found that although i no longer possessed a finger it still tingled as if my very body rebelled at its absence. I held the hand with the phantom finger close to my chest and stared up into the dawn sky.

I let my body fall back against the ground and darkness crept into my sight and over my eyes.


	19. The Many Faces of Eomer

**_Disclaimer: For this particular chapter i feel that i really must once again put in a disclaimer just due to the amount of dialogue i have taken. I do not own any of Tolkein's work or Peter Jackson's script for Lord of the Rings. I mixed some dialogue with the book, the movie, and my own makings to spice things up a bit, i really hate taking so much material verbatim but in this case there was no choice. Never fear it will not be so close to the book in later chapters! _**

_**A/N: Moving on, I hope you like this new chappie, overall it was very fun to write. I do know that it is the start up of the new semester and time is scarce, blast you, school, and your educating ways! But i really do appreciate reviews in these dire times! I'd love to hear any input , what you liked, what you didn't like, suggestions. I'm game for anything. I am also thinking of once again changing my description as it quite frankly has nothing to do with the story and describes nothing whatsoever. If you think this is a grave mistake forewarn me! Now i will leave you from my badgering and back to the story.**_

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**The Many Faces of Eomer.**

"Give us a rest!" Gimli gasped.

Aragorn leaned wearily against a boulder as he surveyed the vast expanse of land. Land that reached far past where his feet could reasonably take him and yet still held not a single orc.

"What do your elf-eyes see?" He questioned of Legolas.

The elf of Mirkwood peered over the precipice, "Nothing." He said dismally, then he arched upward.

"What?" Boromir asked urgently.

"I see a great cloud of smoke off to the distance… it may yet be them!"

"Two day and nights of pursuit, running with only sparse breaks for food and water." Gimli grumbled, "I'll kill those bloody orcs when we find them!"

"I certainly hope so." Boromir muttered.

Gimli looked darkly at him, "We dwarves are spent on long distances." He remarked haughtily, "Now, give me a short distance and I can outsprint a horse."

Boromir did not deign to reply to this mission statement which he had heard at least five time in the last two hours.

"The time for rest is not now, my friend. Our path lies onward towards the very Gates of Isengaurd it would seem." Legolas replied.

"Enough talk. We press onward." Aragorn cut in and all four leaned into the chase again.

Inhale. The world flashed around him in the dazzlingly bright sunrise. Exhale. Grass swayed in the wind and crunched softly underfoot. Inhale. Foxgloves or black-eyed susans or a thousand other possible wildflowers lay in green bunches, waiting patiently for the spring to beckon them from their slumber. Exhale. Large, grey eyes stared out at him from a face that was half blue and half green. Inhale. Eyes turned to rocks and the face back into the world that flashed around him.

The steady work of his lungs did not help to pass the time, but was efficient in keeping it measured. Everything reminded of her. _Why did everything have to remind him of her?_ The landscape would suddenly twist into her features, leaves were shaped like her lips, clouds transformed into her smile, and the wind rustled through his hair like her fingers.

He was in dangerous waters and he knew it very well. Thinking such impossibilities as he was wont to do of late could lead to madness. She was gone and must therefore be forgotten. But he could not fathom her being so cruelly severed from this life and more than that he could not feel it. _Why could he not feel it? When she had been the only on who tried to -no- wanted to understand the chaos the ring had sent his mind into. Why could he not feel it when the only thing that had and that still did tie him down to sanity had vanished forever in the thrashing tumble of Raruos._

A dragonfly hummed about his ear, whispering to him in her voice, and then like her suddenly spinning and turning around. Its interest peaked by some other specimen. A jagged tree loomed up on a cliff face like the carcass of a shipwreck. Its hands splayed out in pointed twists. Eileen's ring floated before his mind's eye, shinning through the blood as the tiny sliver wrought roots curled around her finger.

A different humming assailed his ear and he stopped sharply. The others had heard it as well.

"Is it orcs?" Aragorn whispered in an pressing tone.

A cloud of dust was drawing closer from over the hills.

"Riders! Riders with swift steeds and golden of hair. The fair Riders of Rohan!" Legolas cried, then more dismally, "I see no hobbits."

They slid against the rocks and wrapped their elven cloaks about them. But the pounding was growing louder and then Boromir heard the whining of many horses and the clopping of hoofs ringing off the rocks. The Eored galloped right past them as if they were no more than another rock in the rubble!

Aragorn sprang from his place and called out in a clear voice, "What news of the North, Riders of Rohan!"

Suddenly the Eored began to turn and before Boromir could take action a hundred powerful, gray horses encircled the four. Long spears of ash pointed ominously at the small group. A rider emerged from the Eored, taller than the rest and with a helm like that of a horse head. He brought a spear level to Aragorn.

"Who are you and what are you doing in this land?" The Rider demanded. He never removed his helm.

"We come from the distant lands in the West, from the realm of Elrond, half-Elven King. For two days and two night have we pursued a band of orcs."

The Rider swept off of his horse, "You know nothing of orcs if you give chase in this manner. You would soon become the hunted if you ever overtook them." He said, but his voice still held amazement. Then he glanced suspiciously at Aragorn. "How is it that none of my riders saw you? What sorcery is this? Be you foes or are you elven kind?"

"Only one of us is of that fair kind, Legolas of the distant Mirkwood realm. These cloaks that conceal us from those that may harm us were gifts from the Golden Lady of Lothlorien."

Eomer now swept his eye over the rest of the fellowship. "Aye, the Golden Lady, oft have I heard of her fabled sorcery. And why do none of you speak. What secrets do you hold? How are you called and from whence do you hail?"

"Give me your name, horse master, and I will give you mine." Gimli snarled.

"I would cut off your head, _dwarf_, if it but stood a little higher off the ground."

"You would die before your stroke fell!" Legolas had strung his boy and pointed it at the rider in a matter of seconds. The Eored bristled like a hedgehog that has been jabbed in the side and the many spears around them tensed for strike.

Aragorn pushed himself between Legolas and the horse-lord. "We are friends of TheodenKing. I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, this elf I have already spoken for, this is Gimli son of Gloin, and this is Boromir of Gondor, the Captain-heir to the Steward, Denethor."

A murmur ran threw the riders and their leader took a step closer to Boromir. The horse-lord studied his features while Boromir looked back icily.

"If who you claim to be is true, then we must rejoice. For we have been sent news that Boromir son of Denethor is slain." The rider deadpanned, looking more suspicious than ever.

"How is this?" Boromir demanded.

"His horn was found. Broken."

Boromir instinctively brought his hand to his belt, where his horn was always kept. Gone! It must have fallen in the battle or more likely while he and Aragorn where looking over the edge of Rauros for any sign of Eileen.

He did not let this sudden alarm cross his visage and he kept his voice schooled, "He is not slain, as you can see."

"Be that as it may." The rider said, "I believe you are true in your enmity of the orcs. Strange they may be, but elves hold no love for orcs and if they gave you cloaks then you must be their ally. I am Eomer, third Marshall of the Riddermark." The rider took off his helm and a wave of weariness swept over his face, "TheodenKing no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin."

The ring of spears disappeared as if Eomer's silent command had been shouted out. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." Boromir felt as if an icy hand was sliding up his back. He knew that feeling, the one where no one could be trusted past the reach of a sword and a world in which the enemy could be lurking around every bush, past every smiling face.

"We are not spies. The uruk hai we track have taken our friends captive." Aragorn said staunchly.

"The Uruk Hai are destroyed. We slaughtered them in the night." Eomer replied.

"But the hobbits! Did you see two hobbits with them. They would appear as only children in your eyes." Gimli pleaded desperately.

"We left none alive. We piled the corpses and burned them. Stranger things have been happening of late with the machinations of Saruman and we do not want the dead to rejoin the living. A girl, as if a ghost so they say, has been seen by a few of the smallfolk. They say she wanders along the entmoot in the twilight as well as the day. Ashen pale and willowy as the wind. The people are saying she comes from the water, but there may be something more sinister in this fable. I very much believe that the river will be poisoned next." Eomer looked grave as death.

"Dead?" Gimli resounded as if that was the only thing he could think of, but Boromir could think of plenty more things. A girl? Wandering up the river. Could it be? Dare he hope?

"What girl." Boromir cut in.

"No one knows. It only takes one fool to report a dream before the whole of the countryside is buzzing with the news. Everyone is set on edge by the wildest rumor in these dark times." Eomer stared at him, "Do you know of her."

"There was a woman with us also, from a far land in the West, but she was taken by Rauros." Aragorn lamented.

"I am sorry." Eomer consented. "You may have these three horses. May they bring more luck to you than their previous riders."

Wheels and gears spun inside Boromir's head. Once planted the seed could not be dug it out. _Eileen still alive? What if this fabled girl was her, lost and alone, easy prey to any predator in the wilds of the Mark?_

The riders moved on systematically as Boromir's mind was occupied and soon it was just the four of them again, accompanied by three horses.

"Boromir, what troubles you?" Aragorn questioned.

"I fear I must leave you. I know I gave my word, but the fellowship is broken and I also gave my word to protect Lady Eileen. While there is still hope she is living I must search for her."

"This lady they speak of is but a shadow of a muttering." Aragorn said sadly, "But it holds just as much hope as our pursuit for the hobbits so I will not stop you, or try and turn your mind from this thing. Go and see what can be done. Take this horse."

Boromir clasped Aragorn's forearm. "I would have followed you had I any other way, my brother, my captain, my King."

* * *

Something was poking me in the rib every second or so. With hazy sight and a headache like someone had clubbed me in the face, I rolled over and looked around blearily for the offensive object. It stared back at me with wide green eyes, then mumbled something in a male voice.

Green-Eyes bent down, but I had not shifted my gaze and was consequently blinded by the sun. I made a squealing noise and curled up, shoving my arms out in front of my face.

He was shaking my arm. Saying something I couldn't understand. I opened my eyes again and he was rising. My vision was clear.

A young man in his twenties or so loomed over me. His tall figure was outlined by the sun and while this cast most of his features into shadow his golden hair gleamed in the sunlight. He leaned against a long handled axe with the head planted on the grass and peered intently at me.

_Lord Eomer is a perfect example of your Rohan kinsmen. Golden haired is he and proud statured._

"Lord Eomer!" I gasped breathlessly

Eomer's eyes opened in surprise before he smiled ruefully exposing a set of rather average teeth.

"Nay, I ain't a lord. I'm just a wheat farmer's son, and the youngest one at that." The heavily accented, not-so-Eomer imparted to me as he lifted up what I realized was a scythe.

"Oh." was all I could say. I took in the rest of him as the brilliant sunshine seemed to wilt in the sky at his revelation and expose his true figure. Sweat glistened on his dirt flecked face. His hands were covered in mud and straw. He had a few cuts on his arms and the blood had dried. A tattered, dirty tunic that looked like it had once been an off white color was rolled up at the sleeves. His pants were a discolored brown with patches of white, black, and brown. He had positively filthy brown boots caked in mud that ended at mid-shin.

He held out his hand for me. I grasped the rather repulsively grimy offering and he pulled me up with startling speed. I went up and almost fell over the other way, but he grabbed my arm and steadied me.

"Here, you best be takin this" and he shoved the scythe at me placing the butt under my arm so it acted as a crutch.

I just stared back at him.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before regaining himself and giving a clumsy bow.

"Thurstan son of Wiglaf, but they call me Stag on account of…" he reddened visibly. _Apparently he hadn't wanted to tell me that._

More awkwardness ensued.

Before he laughed feebly, "I guess Leoflic and Hops 'll have to call me Marshall when I tell them how I got mistaken for the King's nephew."

I nodded dumbly.

"I found you lying there 'bout an hour ago." He decided to inform me, I looked at him bewildered. He stumbled, "I mean, I was just collecting the wheat when I found you on the ground and I tried to wake you but you wouldn't and you didn't look dead or nothin' so I just waited till you came round."

I nodded dumbly.

"You don't look so good. I-I mean you look pretty, b-but you aint ahh lookin in spirits if you take my meaning." He stuttered.

I nodded dumbly.

My head was spinning and I was having a hard time focusing on Thurstan's ramblings.

He babbled on and I nodded dumbly until we reached a village. The thatched roofs and mud caked walls looked weather beaten and shaky. A tall, gangly boy with light brown hair shouted at Thurstan in a language I did not understand, but the comment made Thurstan's face turn crimson. Another man about Thurstan's age with blonde hair and a bull's stature came up and punched Thurstan on the arm genially before looking me up and down and then grinning at Thurstan. I gave him a look that would have curdled milk and he scuttled away.

_Ah, the awkwardness of the new girl. _

Thurstan led me into the largest hut with a multitude of shouts as we made our way across the threshold. He was clearly bent on announcing our arrival to the entire household. An old man with Thurstan's height, green eyes, and high cheekbones was sitting on a chair inside the house. He glanced hard at me before beckoning to Thurstan. They chatted a bit in the other language, probably about me, before the old man addressed me.

"My son tells me you were quite alone in the field." He let the statement hang in the air, I felt that it held an accusation but was not sure what it was until he deemed it appropriate to continue. "Tell me how a woman of your age is so far from home, possibly for days, and without her husband?" His stare bore into my eyes.

_This one isn't as easy as Thurstan_. "It is a long story my lord, but I assure you I have never been married although I had previously been traveling with several other men, so I was not alone."

The man's eyes narrowed. I bit my tongue. _Wrong thing to say._ My innocent situation did not come out as I had imagined it would.

His tone had turned several degrees colder, "Tell me then, woman, how I can I trust you? How I can be sure you are no ally of Saruman? I here tell he comes as a beggar and again as an old man, creeping in the shadows and clinging to the night. It seems to me he could work through a woman just as well."

I didn't really have an answer for that so I returned to my tactic with Thurstan and just stared dumbly at the old coot.

"Tell me, where do you come from?" He said slowly, "And who these men are that you… _traveled with_." His implication was as blunt as it was offensive and I reddened at the lash.

"Wiglaf, what the devil are you doing in there?" A woman's voice called from farther within.

"None of your business woman!" He yelled back.

Despite being rejected, a plump, elderly woman waddled into the room. "What's the child done." She demanded, "She's redder than a tomato. Is that what kind of hospitality the house of Yrothling has to offer? If so you better watch that fool head of yours for lightning bolts. I can already hear the angry bellowing of the gods." She stood with her hands on her chubby waist and contorted her round face into a scowl.

"Quiet Woman!" He shouted, flustered and becoming more heated by the second, "I am the man of this house! I am the head! I'll be damned before I hear a woman tell me the will of the gods!"

"Pray tell us what it is then." She growled in an undertone.

The old man rounded on me. "Girl, you may stay here until I can find you work and a home. The gods honor hospitality and so shall I." He barked.

"Old fool." The old woman muttered.

"What did you say?" Wiglaf shouted.

"I said you're an old fool!" She shouted back.

His face turned a darker shade of red and was now bordering on purple.

Now this conversation, as amusing at it may seem, was really very awkward, especially as I looked over at the downturned face of Thurstan. If you have ever been the awkward third wheel to your friend and her mom arguing you will know what I mean by this.

"They call me Rhithwae, child." The woman turned kindly to me, completely ignoring the fuming Wiglaf who in his fury not only turned away but picked up his chair and placed it facing in the opposite direction of his wife and me.

"I am honored to meet you Rhithwae. They call me Eileen… of Byrne." What was one little half truth if it made them feel at ease?

Either there was really a place called Byrne or Rhithwae was not the kind of woman to let on she had no idea what you were talking about, but whatever it was the outcome was good for me.

"Oh yes, yes. Lovely place." She said quickly. I suspected it was more likely the later case. "Dear me, you have some high airs about you and no mistaking it." She renewed her evaluation of me. "I don't suppose you speak Rohirric at all." I shook my head. "It is to be expected, but you do look uncannily like some of our kinsfolk in the Westfold, Erkenbrand's people. I daresay you will have to pick the language up though, we are one of the few families in Aeglesthorp that speak the common tongue." I was completely bewildered by all these names and places she was throwing at me, let alone how in the world I would manage to learn another language. I think she pitied me for my stupefied look and said in kindlier tones, "Never mind that for now, though. Thurstan, show _Aelain_ to the spare cot." She stumbled over the pronunciation of my name, which was something I was already accustomed to.

Thurstan dared a swift glance at me before unceremoniously walking off. I scrambled after him and was soon, and by soon I mean in the matter of seconds, standing in front of the 'spare cot.' You have to understand that Wiglaf and Rhithwae owned a very small house, nonexistent to American standards, and this 'cot' was nothing more than a heap of straw in a closet sized room that held three other such sleeping arrangements.

Thurstan whipped out two quilted blankets from the loft where the extra mound of straw was and busied himself with arranging them so that one acted as a sort of cushion against the straw and the other as an actual blanket.

"You'll stay up there with Fae." And then after I did not respond he added in a faltering tone, "I hope the bed's to your liking…"

I nearly smacked myself on the head for being so rude. This family was giving me what was clearly not "extra" at all and in fact would probably cause this "Fae" to lose half _her_ bed and the entire family to lose provisions by supporting me in my stay.

"It's lovely!" I beamed.

He smiled back sheepishly and then quickly fled from the room.

"Well that was weird…" I muttered to myself.

I rubbed my fingers together and puzzled over the tingling in my missing finger. _My phantom finger_. The tingling was accompanied by a sharp pain and I looked down at the cloth covered hand. I suddenly felt bone weary and leaned against the door. For the first time I fully realized that this unpleasant sensation would never go away. It would haunt me with a bloody grin for the rest of my days.

"What is _weird?_" A head popped out from the loft.

I clutched at my heart which had jumped dangerously at the interruption into my cerebral musings.

"It means strange." I gasped as I tried to decipher the features that belonged to the voice. A pointy featured little girl was staring at me through a sheet of straight blond hair that had fallen over her face. She pushed it out of her vision with a shove that left some strands sticking up at odd angles.

"What do you find strange then?" She demanded.

I admit that I had developed a kind of Spanglish version of Westron and due to the fact that some words were too good lose I simply still used them. The fellowship knew me well enough to interpret most of these which happened to nearly all be insults including but not limited to ninny, boob, and sasquatch. And if I had not been so startled by her sudden appearance I would have given this new acquaintance a safer definition of 'weird.' Instead I racked my mind to think of an alternate thing to find strange other than how I found her brother's abrupt behavior.

"I- ahh- I find the wood here strange." I immediately regretted this lame explanation as she narrowed her shrewd eyes in mistrust, "I mean- it is so rich looking! I have never seen anything like it." She seemed to be appeased by this brazen flattery and let her hands dangle over the edge of the loft.

"I suppose so... What's your name?"

"Eileen."

"That's a- _weird _name." She grinned.

"Thanks." I said sarcastically, "What's yours?"

"Fae," she leaned over the edged of the loft and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "And I know who you are."

For the second time in less than five minutes she had me frozen with fright. I was not sure if I should be afraid that she somehow knew who I was as there was no way she could, but her knowing eyes and my suspicion of possessed children lingered over me.

"And- what is that?" I resounded cautiously, unconsciously bringing my fingers up to my mouth.

"That you have come to marry Thurstan and take him away to a wonderful fairyland with horses made of yellow silk and wind that smells like cinnamon and pink trees that sing to you at night…" She looked off dreamily as she recited this ludicrous plan she had invented for me to carry out. Her eyes suddenly snapped back at me with haughty suspicion, "And you won't take me along! I won't allow it, you have to take me or else- or else I'll tell nana!" She cried desperately.

I was by now afraid that someone would come in and in the state of passion she had entered there was no telling what she would accuse me of. In light of the fact that I had recently witnessed elves and orcs I was not sure how seriously they took fairies and gremlins. I was not about to put myself in a position to find out either.

"Alright, alright," I raised my hands in surrender, "You have discovered my true identity as a fairy from Candyland and if I must I will take you there. Just don't tell nana because she will take my wings away and then neither of us will be able to get there." I was sure I would live to regret this blatant falsehood, but nothing could be done at the present.

She stared hard into my lying eyes and, to my surprise, decided that she found truth there. "Fine, but if I find that you leave without me…" She left the threat to tell nana unsaid. Her calculating mask was split by a gap toothed smile. "Now we can be friends forever and ever and you can do all the magical bidding I need! First, go and turn Afhild's hair green. She made fun of my nose yesterday."

Correction. I was currently regretting my blatant falsehood.

"Well, you see, I can't exactly use magic," She opened her mouth in outrage, but I cut her off, "Because if I do I will reveal myself and the before mentioned consequences about having my wings removed will come to be."

"Well then maybe we can just be friends." She thrust her hand out in a peace offering.

"I'd like that." I went in to shake her hand but she surprised me by grasping my forearm. After a minute of confused bumbling i caught on and grabbed her forearm. We solemnly nodded at each other.

"Who is this Afhild anyways? Maybe we can turn her hair green without magic."

Her mouth slid into a cunning smile that shocked me in its similarity to the one I had seen worn by the Captain of Gondor every time he defeated a combatant in sword training. I will not pretend it did not make my very bones ache to see it, but it still brought an irresistible smile to my face. Just as it always had.

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_A/N: We are entering a whole new world of pain! Pain i tell you!_

_That may have just been wild ramblings of a writer going mad at the prospect of rejoining the educational world but in either case review you curious monkeys, you!_

_And you may also verbally slap me for that ridiculous phrase that i just addressed you as._


	20. Intro to Medeival Economics

**_A/N: Hello again! Hope you all are having a glorious Friday! I realized while writing the last chapter that the time line suddenly crunches from ranging months and weeks to days... the schedule in the Lord of the Rings text from now on out is a very fast pace flow of wars and crisis events so i also have to pick up the pace in writing the story and although i wanted to spend more time in Aeglesthorp it is not to be. Any and all reviews are welcome and in fact desperately sought after haha! Hopefully you enjoy this latest update!_**

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**Intro to Medieval Economics**

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She slowly unwrapped the hardened cloth from my hand. Twisting it deftly, but tenderly in a fashion that led me to believe Rhithwae was no stranger to tending injuries. As the cloth was being removed air rushed in to fill the hole in my hand where a finger had once been.

"Gods be good." Rhithwae breathed in a horrified voice. "What turn of fate has led you to this?"

I gave no reply and she did not press me for one.

I clenched my teeth as she dunked my hand into soapy water. Splinters seemed to drive themselves in my hand with the lightest touch of the washcloth. I tried to retract my hand but she held me fast by the wrist. I looked at her with pleading eyes, but she only pressed her lips tighter together and continued to cleanse the wound. After a few minutes, she released me from this torture and laid my hand out on a fresh towel.

She deftly grabbed a tub of blackish ointment from the jar-laden shelf overhead. There was a strange marking on the container, like a symbol or a tiny picture. She examined this marking before bringing the substance up to her nose and nodding firmly after she had gotten a strong whiff of the stuff. I could not stop myself from flinching when she brought a glob of this substance nearer to my tender wound.

"What is it?" I asked timidly. I didn't want her to sick the leeches on me or anything, but in my opinion this time period did not look like the golden age of medicinal knowledge and I wanted to make sure she wasn't putting mercury or something on me.

"Only Marigold, crushed elderberry, and garlic." She said impatiently, "Come now, child. The valar have blessed you and the wound has not begun to fester yet, but do not doubt me when I say that it _will_ fester." I shuddered and snapped my eyes shut as I thrust my hand back toward her.

"It will sting, but in a few hours the ointment will dull the pain." She said softly as she coated the gap in my hand with the thick cream.

I tried to distract myself from her painful ministrations with questions. "What do- the herbs do?" I said through a tight jaw.

"Garlic to cleanse the wound, although that will cause most of the sting." She smiled sardonically, "Too often in life do we mistake foul for fair and fair for foul. Take Monkshood for example. A beautiful plant and no mistake about it, but fatal if consumed." I did not doubt her wisdom.

"What about the others."

"Oh, well let me see. Elderberry to keep the swelling down and to dull the pain and Marigold will soothe the skin and bring you qualities back as they should be." She pressed two fingers against my forearm. "Your dominant quality appears to be- dry." I looked at my cracked, obviously dehydrated skin. _I could have told her that when i was seven. _When I looked up at her she cracked a wide grin. We both laughed.

"The most important thing to know is who to learn what you know from. Take all these dullards who mumble about humors and qualities and in the meantime bleed their patients out of their wits. We country herbalists and midwives know a great deal more about the human body than some crackpot old fool sitting in a tower." She said obstinately as if the said crackpot old fool were listening.

Who knew that flowers could prove to be so fantastically employed! I racked my brain for any information about the many herbs Radagast had spoken of, but found I had not retained any of it. What a fool I had been! I could have helped myself all along if I had only listened in the first place. I chewed on the inside of my lip. I wondered if I was still that foolish girl or if she had died somewhere along the road. I supposed some of her still lived, after all I wasn't a shriveled up old maid yet!

"It is done." Rhithwae announced to my amazement and I gave a start upon looking down and finding my hand covered in the thick, pasty substance. In a second's time it was no longer to be seen as Rhithwae enfolded my hand in a fresh bandage. With expert precision she wrapped my wound in cloth and tied it off. "There. Now you are as right as rain. What were you thinking on?" She asked quietly.

"Of silly days and sillier girls." I laughed.

"Ah, the best of days." She smiled benevolently.

"What is kingsfoil used for, Rhithwae?" I asked, suddenly recalling at least one plant from my neglected lessons.

"Oh that? A weed. I keep it here though," she lifted her arm to point at a clump of pointing leaves, "the smell is soothing and it helps to clear my mind as I tend to my weary warriors." She lifted her eyebrows in mock solemnity.

"Could you- could you tell me more of these herbs Rhithwae." I asked hesitantly, "I know you are very busy, but I would be very grateful if you could at least lend a book to me."

She laughed heartily at this, "Book? Who do you think I am? The Queen of the White Tower. Bless me child! What use have I for books when all you need to know is here." She tapped her head in what would have been a sage gesture if she hadn't ruined it by her merry laughter. "I will teach you for I have need to impart my wisdom onto another before this old head fails me." I opened my mouth to protest. She was giving away her entire life's learnings to me! A nobody who had turned up at their door covered in dirt. She cut off my unvoiced objection, "I won't hear it. I've made up my mind. Besides its not like I can't teach another when I'm done with you. You are a silly creature. Now go find that clumsy son of mine, Thurstan, before he brings the whole house down over my head." Then she muttered more to herself, "With a talent for misfortune like his it is no wonder he will stay as wife-less as a Stag for all of his days." She looked slyly at me and I scuttled off before she could get any ideas such as the ones her daughter, Fae, had already developed.

Immediately having emerged from the back door of the hut I ran into that dreaded daughter.

"Eileen!" Fae exclaimed, then remarked shrewdly, "Is _Thurstan_ in there?"

_Oh for heaven's sake, will no one give me peace! _

"No, he is not." I said grumpily.

"Well that's no good!" She cried passionately, "How will you ever get him to marry you unless _he_ _falls in love with you?_" She emphasized the phrase for my benefit.

I yanked her to the side afraid her madness would spread across the village of Aeglesthorp like wildfire. "I'll tell you the truth now, Fae, I do not nor have I ever intended to wed your brother. My mission as a fairy was simple; to recover in your town and search for those I have lost." I hissed to her, trying to be gentle but fearing I had failed in my present irked state of mind.

Her eyes grew as wide as bowls and she looked up at me with renewed awe, "I knew you were really a fairy." She said breathlessly. "Tell me all about it." She pressed her little hands fervently into mine.

"Maybe another time…" I replied evasively. She looked mutinous so I added quickly, "But I'll tell you about Candyland, although it is not so grand as everyone says."

"Nonsense." She stated matter-of-factly, "Everyone knows that a place where fairies live is the best of places! What was it like? Are there really silken horses? Oh! How I would love a silk horse." She sighed.

I laughed at her wild imaginings and decided to humor her.

"They have horses the same as these," I waived my hand out to the horses grazing in the field, "but some girls have little toy horses made of silk and I suppose if you really wanted you could dress your horse in silk."

"It sounds lovely." She said dreamily. I had the distinct impression that she was bent on the fantastical and anything I said would merely work to confirm this. "Tell me more!"

"Well in my land there is music that comes out of little boxes without anyone making the music." She widened her eyes in surprise. This was as close as she was going to get to singing trees. "We have great halls made out of stone and steel that rise up into the clouds and some of them have glass windows so you can see straight through them. At night the halls light up from the inside with torches that shed light but do not burn. In fact they are not made of fire at all…" I was getting ahead of myself and having an extremely hard time trying to explain things that had once been so normal, but the more I spoke about them the more unbelievable they seemed to _me._

"More! More!" Fae tugged at my hand. Apparently I had trailed off, "Tell me more about the lights, are they thousands of fireflies in jars? That would be so wonderful to see."

How _had_ we done all those things? After months of being severed from that world of metal and gears and plugs I was beginning to seriously doubt if it had not all been some sort of a fantastic dream I had and this, this ivy covered barn i was standing next to and this girl wearing a course spun woolen dress who i was talking to, was the only reality.

"They are- well, they are made up of," I couldn't bring myself to give a proper explanation because once I explained electricity then there would be a hundred thousand open ends. "Yes, I suppose some are just jars of fireflies. But the lights are so bright that they illuminate the night sky so it looks almost like day."

"Then how can you see the stars?" she asked.

"I suppose you can't."

"Not anywhere?" She questioned incredulously.

"Well, maybe far into the country side but that would take a long time to travel to."

"Nana says that the stars are the eyes of Iluvatar and his children. If you can't see them then how can they see you? And how can they help you if they can't see you?" She prodded.

I was getting very flustered with all of these questions.

"Just because we can't see them doesn't mean that they aren't watching."

"Oh…" she trailed off, but before she could gather up any more questions a gruff voice broke over the yard

"Fae!" Wiglaf strode out of the barn heaving a plow in his stead, he was still a strong man despite being on the elderly side of life.

"Yes, papa." She called.

"Stop filling your head with silly gossip and come help me with the seeding. We want to be prepared when spring comes."

Fae scuttled off and Wiglaf shot me a suspicious eye.

"You, go to the market square and get some meat for today's pie. And make sure you're not swindled. That Hyldur will cheat you blind if you don't haggle with him."

Wiglaf pressed a few homemade candles into my hand. I looked at them with bewilderment. "What am I supposed to do with these?" I demanded rather saucily.

It was his turn to look at me with bewilderment and he took his time, looking me first in the face and then up and down as if he was afraid I might suddenly turn into a writhing squid.

I lifted my eyebrows in order to confirm that I really was at a loss as to what I was expected to do with the candles. _Seriously, he give me these things and doesn't even tell me what he wants me to do with them and then he looks at _me_ like I've grown two heads._ I quickly ran out of patience waiting for his answer and said crisply, "I need coin for the food, Wiglaf."

At this he erupted in laughter. "Gods be good!" He gasped between hoots, "And here I was worrying you were a threat! _Coin for food?_ Who do you take me for? The King in the Golden Hall?" I felt like my ignorance was going to be a long running joke as one way or another I had succeeded in some way mistaking all the members of this family except Fae for royalty.

"Where did you say you came from?" He chuckled, but it still made cold sweat break out over my forehead. I could never be sure how much information to impart on strange people in a strange land, at least I knew the ways of caution if nothing else useful here.

"From the Golden Hall," I replied bitterly, "When you regain yourself we will continue this talk."

"I'm sorry child, truly I am." He said as he very happily wiped the tears from his eyes, "Lord above, you _must_ have been a highborn thing. Rhithwae said you might be some Lady lost from her escort, but I couldn't see a skinny thing like you being rich. I heard all the noble ladies have as many chins as they do servants, but you must be something special because no farmer's daughter could ever afford to be as empty headed as you are."

I rubbed my chin self-consciously. _Still one-chinned as far as I can tell_. And I wasn't sure whether to take it as a compliment that he thought I was a highborn or an insult that the reasons for his thinking was due to my incompetence. I was leaning toward the offended side and stood there crossly.

"The only coin I've ever had is the one my great-grand-sire Ceolwold passed down from his days of travel." His face returned to business. "No, child, take these candles and barter them for the meat. Rhithwae is the best chandler in the province and Hyldur will give us a good cut for one of these here pieces of wick."

He chuckled as I rudely snatched the candles out of his hand and resolutely turned my back to him.

"And for heaven's sake, take Fae with you or we may lose our whole house for a piece of horse flesh." He called at my retreating figure and Fae scuttled across the yard to join me.

On the short walk I badgered Fae with questions and she happily obliged me, telling me all about Hyldur and Wiglaf's new foal, which she had adamantly told me would be hers when she turned ten. She told me other things as well that I found more useful if not as entertaining. The sowing season was to start soon and the household was thrown into an uproar preparing the wheat seed and repairing the plowing gear. The women were set to the task of sewing new seed bags, picking the spoiled seed out of the lot, and weeding the fields. This was indeed a daunting prospect for me, especially the sewing part… Fae also told me that the big plow horse had hurt his leg when he threw a fit last month and Wiglaf was hard pressed as to what he should do.

"Papa says that a new horse is hard to come by now that the Eor's are paying double for every sound limbed beast to ride. He might have to pull the plow himself!"

I could find nothing to say to this as I had no practical solution at hand. My embarrassment was averted when someone shouted at me in this people's strange tongue. Fae giggled.

"What did he say?"

"He said for you to move your oafish feet out of the road."

…

I did not deign to reply, but only lifted my dress-skirt, Rhithwae had bestowed this relic on me, to the scandalous height of my ankles and leaped over a puddle of mud. Fae giggled more at this and I shot her an impish smile. A bony man in a shack hailed us as Fae guided me to the butchery.

He said something to Fae in Rhorric and she replied, gesturing to me. He looked at me with renewed interest and something that held too much of calculation to make me feel at ease. I lifted my chin a little higher under his gaze. This Hyldur was a skeletal looking man with sunken cheek bones and beady eyes that seemed to fix themselves on a single feature of your face and never waver. His eyes settled upon a spot on my cheek. Then he muttered something to Fae while pointing his finger at my face. _The insolence._

I would have laughed at this thought if i had not been so disconcerted. _I really am starting to act like some noble lady._

Fae turned to me curiously, "Hyldur says you have a cut on your cheek." I brought my left hand up to my face unconsciously and his eyes pinned themselves to my bandaged hand. He said something again to Fae and she translated it for me.

"Hyldur want to know where you got so many wounds."

Hyldur pointed his beady, little eyes at my face and just stared, as if he thought the answer might appear on my forehead.

"Hyldur asks a lot of questions." I smiled sweetly. "But if he must know I fell off a horse."

But before Fae told him this his bulging eyes seemed to shrink back into his head and a suspicious shadow fell over his features. He snapped his attention back to Fae, but I could not stop the feeling of disquiet that had settled in the pit of my stomach.

I paid careful attention to Fae as she haggled. At first Hyldur slapped a thin piece of meat down on the table and put up four fingers, but she shook her head. Slowly the odds grew in our favor and Hyldur made a clicking sound with his tongue every time Fae refused his offer. At one point we even walked away for a few moments before he shouted out for us to come back.

After our purchase Fae and I walked down the street triumphantly, short of two candles but with an additional hunk of beef and a few pieces of blubber. I looked with distaste at our loot when Fae shoved it in my face gleefully.

"Nana will be so proud!"

"I'm sure." I conceded while trying to avoid a nose-full of raw meat.

Nana was indeed proud and to show it she gave me a hard pinch on the cheek and patted Fae on the head. After a few hours Rhithwae had turned a slice of the raw meat into a delicious meat-pie soaked in ale.

The men of the family sat down at an old wooden table as Rhithwae, Fae, and I ladled soupy pieces of pie into bowls.

Thurstan turned to his father, "The other men are saying such things to be feared."

Rhithwae stopped and craned her head.

"They say many things." Wiglaf sighed.

Rhithwae, Fae, and I took our seats after placing the food on the table.

"What things?" The old woman pressed. "Orc mischief? If it is naught but those vermin we can handle them, we have for a thousand years before and we will continue to do so." She said proudly.

"More than just orcs, I'm afraid," and the lines deepened on Wiglaf's brow, "There have been foul dealings for these past years, but now the raids are worse than ever. They say the Hillfolk have taken up arms with the orcs."

No one dared to breathe.

"Iluvatar save us all." Rhithwae exhaled after the pause.

I couldn't help myself, "What does this mean though? Surely if you have held the orcs at bay a few hillmen will be nothing."

Wiglaf's face turned sour, "Do you know nothing, girl?"

I bit my lip and looked down with shame.

Rhithwae touched my arm, "He doesn't mean it. Its just that- that recently a band of the Hillmen from Dunland have made camp in the hills west of here. Too near here." She added ominously.

"These men are _not _like orcs. They do not kill for the pleasure of destruction, no, they bear in their breasts a deep hatred for the people of Rohan born from the loyalty they keep to their ancestors. Their passion is like a great wave compared to the splash of malice from the orcs." Wiglaf whispered into his hands.

_Out of the frying pan and into the fire._

We ate the rest of the meal in silence.

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**_A/N: Also a point of contention: do you think i should raise the content rating to T because there is quite a bit of explicit violence and also a smattering of swear words?_**

**_Tell me what you think about in the review section below!  
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	21. Androgyny

_**A/N: WHOOOOOOOO 100 REVIEWS! Thank you so much to all of my readers. I do hope you like the latest update. I have decided to change the ratings from K+ to T because of the large amount of violence and swear words. If you think this is a really bad idea please tell me! This chapter does have some war violence so be forewarned, but that said, I do not dwell excessively on gore I just like a more realistic approach to the horror of war, not all this business about Mary Sue's running around spilling rainbow colored teddy bears instead of blood lol. Enjoy it! And please review! I love it!**_

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**Androgyny  
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I awoke the next day with a mouth full of hay. I pulled the jar of the medicinal paste that Rhithwae had given to me from a small shelf overhead. After carefully unwrapping my hand I reapplied the blackish cream to my wound. It was already improving and the skin accumulated in an unsightly scab over the hole.

I gathered a few torn seed bags up in my arms and strode out to the fields. I had been in Aeglesthorp for only three days, but already Rhithwae had swung me into the rhythm of life. It was simple here. Wake, go out to the fields, and work. Or at least that was what she told me.

I met the older woman a little ways out in the bare wheat field. She was sitting on a pale bucket. A few flecks of dirt adding color to her iron grey hair. Her eyes lifted to greet me and she beckoned to a few of the women around her. They were already busy sewing patches on bags and repairing rips and paused only to bob their heads at my arrival then they returning to their chatting.

I had the familiar feeling of being lost in a crowd that was humming with voices and yet none of them was distinguishable from the other. All the women here spoke Rhorric. I picked up a great, wooden sewing needle and looked at it forlornly. _This is not going to be pretty._

I grabbed a piece of rough spun thread and shoved it through the eye of the needle. I resolutely stabbed the needle into the ripped seed bag and pulled it through before punching it back in again. On my fifth puncture I managed to stab myself in the finger and had to bite back a cry of anguish.

Rhithwae covered my hands with her own. "You don't need to attack it," She said with a sarcastic whisper and I looked up to see everyone staring covertly at me.

"Oh." My face turned traitorously red.

"Watch Wynflead."

I did watch Wynflead, a girl with heavily freckled hands and a pink face. Those spotted hands weaved expertly in and out of the bag and soon, with some guidance from Rhithwae I was also steadily sewing, even if it was still very poor work.

Soon the women's chatter filled my ears and I could not ignore my own curiosity.

"What are they speaking of?" I whispered to Rhithwae.

"Of what else. Hillmen." She said.

Then a woman, with a nose like a hawk and hair so severely braided it pulled the sides of her eyes back, spoke up. All the other women looked at her and their sewing seemed forgotten. Then everyone started talking all at once. Some were shaking their heads and others were gesturing out to the field.

"What? What it is Rhithwae? What do they say?"

"Deornyn says that her husband heard tell of a mighty warrior when he went to Conecaester yesterday."

She listened raptly to the babble erupting before us before she turned to me again, "Keen eyed and strong as an ox is this warlord. Some claim he cleaved a man in two with a single stroke. He comes like a light in the dark, wherever the enemy attacks"

Wynflead turned to me and began shaking my arm vigorously and speaking rapidly in high tones. I looked with bewilderment at the older woman beside me for salvation.

"She says that the men are saying he will right the wrongs the wizard has wrought upon the land." Rhithwae said evenly, then turned with a troubled brow to her kinsfolk. She spoke with a stern inflection and they all cast their eyes about in embarrassment.

"Mighty warriors have there own plans for fortune and the heroes all fight for glory. Our town holds neither. They should not be such fool as to hope for this great man to come to our aid." She said grimly.

But something had struck deep inside me at the words Wynflead had spoken and a ringing seemed to reverberate through my chest and up out of my ears. My very soul was stirring.

Rhithwae clutched at me with alarm, "Aelain! Are you well! You're white as a sheet!"

I couldn't' find my voice so I didn't use it.

"Bless me child! You look a fright." She said as she clucked over me and settled me back against a pile of clothe sacks.

Wiglaf's brusque voice carried over the hill, "Rhithwae! _Rhithwae!" _

The elder woman shot up from the ground, "What news?" She called.

He rushed up to us, sweat dripping over his heavy brow and his chest heaving to gulp down more air. "Make haste!" He wheezed and then turning to the others, "Go- find your husbands." No one moved. "_Make haste!" _He spoke with force.

The woman seemed to snap out of themselves and realize what was going on. They did not even hesitate to pick up the seed bags, but took their flight over the hill and back to the village.

"What is the meaning of this, husband?" Rhithwae demanded.

"Hillmen, to the west. A man has come to town crying that Hillmen have attacked Conecaester and razed it to the ground. You must take Fae and this woman Aelain and flee. Go to Edoras and tell them of our plight." He pleaded of his wife with a voice like gravel.

"It must be a mistake," She whispered in reply, "Where is this man?"

"Dead. He collapsed soon after he imparted his tale. Oh, woe to us!" He cried, grabbing handfuls of dirt and pouring it over his head, "It is no mistake. He saw Hyldur with the wild-men! There is no hop left for us, they will come here and they will kill us."

"Hyldur…" She muttered darkly, "That whore's son! I'll kill him!"

"No, my sweet, he is far gone from here with the Hillmen. You must take Clovenhoof and Spring and ride to Edoras with haste."

Something dawned on her and she paled. "What of you and-" her lip began to quaver, "and Thurstan. He is my last son, Wiglaf, I cannot lose him."

"We only have two horses and one is lame. None will make it if we all try to come. The cart is broke and time is running short. They will be upon us any minute. You must take Fae and flee."

There were no more words to be said, but I could not hold my tongue.

"I am staying."

The couple looked at me with shock, even anger. Wiglaf yanked me aside.

"It is a death sentence. I do not wish to drive my wife to despair, but all who stay _will_ be slaughtered." He growled at me.

"I must stay."

"Are you mad! Why?"

"I cannot say." I was not sure how much information of my past I should be free with, but there was one thing I knew. Some great lord was riding to towns under attack and I could not deny the flicker of doubt that of all the millions of men it could Boromir. If death was the price just to have the hope of seeing him, well then, so be it. Maybe I was mad. "Give the horse to Thurstan and let him leave."

Wiglaf pushed that notion aside with the swipe of his hand, "The lame horse will hold no more weight than Fae and Spring will not endure a heavy rider such as Thrustan as well as Rhithwae. Do not try to sacrifice yourself, for it will do no one any good."

"I am not trying anything Wiglaf, I simply must stay."

He huffed angrily, but ran out of patience with me. Instead he grabbed Rhithwae by the arm and rushed with all speed to the barn. I ran after them.

Fae was huddled in the barn, shaking and sobbing. Thurstan was preparing the two steeds for their flight. I tried to numb my mind to Rhithwae and Fae's departure but could not stop the tears that began to flow as the family gave fierce hugs and fiercer words of love.

"Take care Rhithwae, you could have taught me so much." I managed to murmer. She patted me softly on the hands.

"We never got to turn Afhild's hair green. Fairy, why can't you come with us?" Fae pleaded. My gut wrenched at the sight.

I had no words of comfort or excuse so I just stared at her red rimmed eyes.

She could say no more as Wiglaf had whipped both of the beast on their backsides and the creatures reared in pain, bolting towards the North.

Wiglaf rounded on me, clearing his throat and said harshly, "Hello lad."

"But, I'm a girl." I said feebly.

"Not any more you aren't, son." Wiglaf croaked as Thurstan tossed him a pair of shears from the tack.

"Saruman will not care if I am a man or a woman, he will have me killed regardless. So let me have this small concession, to die as a woman."

Wiglaf grabbed me by the arm and pressed his face close to mine, spitting through gritted teeth. "It's a hard world and if you want to survive you have to be harder. Forget about Saruman, girl, do you know what will happen if _they_ find out you're a woman. _Do you?"_ Wiglaf hissed.

Oh, no. No, no, no. Thurstan pushed me from behind gently.

"It's okay, don't fear." Thurstan said soothingly, "This must be done."

Oh no it doesn't. I shook my head numbly. _I still have some pride, not to have my head butchered by a pair of sheep shearers._ The voice in my head protested weakly, but I knew that was not the real reason. Despite the taunting of reasonable Eileen, doubts stirred within me. _What man would ever turn his eyes to a girl that looked like a young lad? _That was the whole purpose, though, but in my naïve fancy I dreaded the outcome should I ever meet one man in particular.

"Come on lad." Wiglaf said gruffly, "It will only take a second."

And it did. Before I knew what happened half my hair had fallen to my feet. The rest was chopped off in a matter of minutes.

The two men patted me on the shoulder as Wiglaf shoved a battered shield up before my face. I could see a scruffy boy shinning out from behind the tin, with large gray eyes and clumpy grey hair. The face looked almost as shocked as I felt. I put my hand up to my hair and so did the boy. We felt the short, uneven bush that was once a girl's long hair.

"Now boy, you look like a proper street urchin." Wiglaf said proudly. "You're to be called Freolaf and you are the son of my brother, Thrushgar. Not that anyone will ask."

Someone else had once called me an urchin. Long ago, but that was when I was a girl. That was when Boromir was here and called me my lady. But that girl was gone, I was Freolaf the boy from the Eastfold.

I looked back at Thurstan. He was only a bit older than me, 20 or so, but still I did not look like him. Sure my hair was definitely a more boyish aspect, but he had a straight strong jaw, stubble, a broader nose, and a harder mouth. Plus, the obvious bodily differences. He was taller, broader, thicker limbed, and he didn't have boobs... _Forget about Saruman, girl, do you know what will happen if they find out you are woman? _Wiglaf's words echoes in my head. Oh, I knew what would happen.

I still looked too feminine even for a boy of thirteen or so. This was no time to be timid and helpless. The first step was already taken.

"I need strip of clothing," I said suddenly to Thurstan. He looked puzzled, but did as I asked. I bent down and gathered dirt and mud into my palm. I rubbed it on my cheeks, jaw line, nose, and upper lip. Then I coated my whole face in dust just for good measure. Wiglaf looked at me and nodded.

"That's the spirit, son." He said solemnly.

I snatched the strip of clothing from Thurstan as he looked at me curiously.

"Turn around." I directed and Wiglaf nodded, understanding my purpose. Thurstan looked confused, but Wiglaf gripped his shoulder and whipped him around.

I took off my dress and wrapped the cloth tightly around my chest. "Wiglaf can you tie this." I asked the older man. He turned around soberly and tied the strip without a word. He pressed a tunic and rough woolen pants in my hand and I donned this new farmer's attire. Thurstan turned around and gaped at me, but Wiglaf was smiling proudly.

"No one will recognize you now, not even the wizard Saruman himself. You're a clever lad, and I think now is as good a time as any to say that I am sorry for doubting your good will."

"Aye, now you hardly look a lady at all, miss." Thurstan whispered, trying to show he was on top of things. Instead he received a swipe across the head from Wiglaf.

"That's because he is no lady, you fool." Wiglaf hissed, "Freolaf is a boy and your cousin beside so you best remember. If that thick head of yours can't keep that information down than we are all twice dead men."

Wiglaf tossed a battered shield to Thurstan and the lid of a barrel to me.

"Find yourselves some weapons," The elder man barked.

Holding the barrel top by a wicker handle I scanned the barn for any sort of instrument that could stab. My eyes alighted on a three pronged pitch fork, with its leftmost prong decidedly bent. I seized it and brought my attention back to Wiglaf who tossed a battered axe to Thurstan. For himself he brandished a sickle in one hand and another barrel lid in the other.

I would have laughed, if I hadn't been convinced by this picture that we were most assuredly going to be butchered.

"Right." Wiglaf said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself that this was the way things were.

Before either Thurstan or I could comment on this, a horrible, throaty humming slipped in through the cracks of the barn as faint as whispers on the wind.

My hands slicked over with sweat as the humming turned to bellowing. I had been in battle before, but it had always been sudden and unexpected. This was infinitely worse, if that can be imagined, waiting for your doom to come as it sings itself through the air.

"This way," Wiglaf whispered harshly, beckoning Thurstan and I through the double doors of the barn. We crept along the side of the house, trying to hide ourselves from enemies who had not yet arrived.

The great shrieking seemed to be ripping through the very earth and I paused to slap my hands over my ears. Thurstan grabbed my arms and gently pried them away from my face.

"Courage. We must not separate."

I looked up to see that Wiglaf had almost disappeared in the afternoon shadows. Then a great thundering rang across the ground, like it was going to open up and swallow us whole. I knew not by what fell swiftness the wildmen were able to descend upon us, but as if by magic they broke on the village like a tidal wave.

A great anthill had been poked with a stick. Townsmen suddenly poured out into the courtyard. Filling the space with a random scrambling of bodies, while the Hillmen sliced through in a terrible triumph. Farmers, riders, foreigners, boys. They were all around me armed with axes and sickles and sharpened sticks. You could smell the confusion; it stank of stale sweat and horseflesh.

I slid against the side of Wiglaf's house, frozen in horror. A mangy haired Hillman with a crooked smile was racing round a young farmer. The rider would get close enough to strike the boy with a club, while the latter drove his makeshift spear with painfully lacking skill always coming at least a foot short of the target.

"Stop it." I whispered. Willing my limbs to throw the pitchfork I clutched, pick up the shield, move, do anything! But to no avail, I was pinned, helpless as the scene unfolded before me.

The farmer's bloodied face was contorted in rage and pain as he thrust his arm out wildly, trying desperately to connect with the flesh of his foe. The wild man laughed coarsely and in a movement that required him to wind his arm back, swung his club with such force that it smashed the boy's face in. The once-live body flew back and landed with a dull thud beside me. My eyes moved without the consent of my mind. They found the boy's battered face lying feet from me.

Something steeled within me, an iron anger that broke through my fear. My limbs were released by their invisible prison.

I lunged out from my corner in a deep crouch, but the Wildman had already moved on to the writhing mess of people who were warring in the marketplace.

I raked my eyes over the scene, somehow drawing strength from the blood that was congealing in the dirt and the shouts of rage and cries of the fallen. And I stepped into the fray, holding my fork tight under one arm. Poised for strike. Fire sprang up from a thatched roof and roared brilliantly in the evening dim. A gust of black wind flew into my face. The thick, acrid smell of smoke assaulted my nostrils.

The wild men were easily killing the townsmen, riding them down as the farmers ran underfoot. Sometimes they would trot their steed around in a circle before plunging in to strike some fool who had tried with more boldness to fight for his own life. _They are making sport of us._ I realized. A stone fell inside of my stomach.

A horse screamed in my ear and I twisted around, in just enough time to bend low and avoid a mace. I sliced my three pronged fork against the back leg of the beast and it reared and screamed in pain. The creature fell and its rider tumbled in the dust, bellowing in anger. His eyes alighted on me and he sprang towards me.

I hated him. I hated them all. I hated them for murdering these good people. I hated them because Fae and Rhithwae had to leave their homes, because I had lost sight of Thurstan and Wiglaf, because I was severed from Boromir, because I could no longer remember my own father's voice, but most of all I hated them for the white hand stamped on their breastplates. Hatred is a powerful thing and once fed it could not be appeased.

He swung, I slid aside. He thrust, I retreated. It only took a few moves for his heavy weapon and heavier chainmail to wear him out and when it did I thrust my fork into his chest and twisted. I reveled in the look a pure agony on his face as the image of the farm boy's smashed face came to mind. He was not the same man who had killed that boy, but he was his kin and that was enough.

I fell against the ground as a club hit me in the back, knocking the wind from my lungs. I gasped and sucked at the air, trying frantically to fill my extinguished lungs. Someone pulled my head up out of the mud as I was gasping and heaving for relief. For a moment I was given a glimpse of my surroundings, but all I could see was fire. The flames licked the sides of homes and barns and shot up into the sky with an insatiable hunger. Then a pair of eyes shone pale and bright in front of me.

He looked me in face. Those eyes chilled me to the bone. They bulged with a glittering malice and I was afraid.

"So. The wench cut her hair." Hyldur hissed in accented Westron.

"You- you-"

"Yes, I speak the common tongue," He laughed mockingly, "These provincial dullards thought they could spit on me, but they know nothing of me. They'll get their due in due's time. But you- you may prove more useful…" He smiled horribly.

I plunged my pitch fork into his belly and that disgusting smile slid from his face, replaced by astounded horror.

"And you know nothing of me. I am not some meek maiden to so easily be subdued, _my lord._" I wrenched the fork from out of his gut. He sagged and collapsed without the support of the stick.

I pushed myself to my feet. How many were left standing? 10? 9? 5? I couldn't tell. The world was spinning so inconceivably fast. Then I was knocked in the back of the head and fell back down into the bloodied mud.

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"My lord." A young rider stepped up to his desk. Boromir had no tent, but his men had pilfered a wire and mesh table that was light enough to be carried on a rider's back. His was a ragtag collection of boys and old men who had decided to leave the ashes of their homes and join his ranks to bring vengeance against the white hand that was ravaging the countryside. There were a handful of wounded warriors that he had also garnered. Despite the poor state of his troops, the men had passion, and that made up for the lack of skill in arms when they rode against the vermin of Saruman.

"What is it?" Boromir asked harshly, "Speak quickly man."

"There is a raid on a few of the towns in the Western Eastfold, a half a day's ride south of Edoras, my lord."

"What towns." He quipped as he drew out a map that marked four and twenty villages in which they had vanquished the orcs. _Four and twenty and still no sign of her_.

"A provincial village called by some Conecaester, but our scout says the town is already burned to the ground and the people are fled or slain."

"Are you wasting my time, soldier? I cannot help the dead. Where are the orcs?"

"They are Hillmen, my lord, and the scout says they were riding against the village of Aeglesthorp when he departed, but the fate of the people there is yet unknown."

"What time did the scout receive his information?"

"He saw it for himself, but he was waylaid by hidden wildmen and his steed was injured. He says he saw the attack about eight hours past. If we leave now, we may reach it in six, my lord."

Boromir looked at the midnight black sky and passed a wearied hand over his face.

"Valar be merciful. Send our swift riders ahead to find the exact position of these wildmen. We will ride with all haste within the hour, but I fear when we come upon Aeglesthorp there all will be naught but ashes. We can at least apprehend this bloody band of Hillmen and avenge our kinsmen."

The man saluted fiercely, "It will be done, my lord."

He looked up at his banner, a piece stitched by an old tailor in his troop. It was graced with a pale blue lady on a red field. The phantom lady, his men called her when her figure danced upon the wind as they rode into battle, cutting orcs down. Warring and marching for nearly a week and no sign of Eileen, his phantom lady.

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**_A/N Have a fabulous weekend!_**


	22. Grim Mouth and an Angry Rider

**_A/N Back again. Sorry for taking so long! Hope you like the new update and thank you so much for all the reviews for the previous chapter! Exciting things happen this time around my friends. And please review and give me your feedback. Tell me if there certain characters you like and really want to see more of or if there was something annoying or confusing or corny or whatever!_**

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**Grim Mouth and an Angry Rider**

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The first thing I became aware of was coarse rope tied so severely around my wrists and legs that the pieces of twine felt like needles. The next thing was male voices.

Their harsh tones rang in my ears, so heavily accented that I at first mistook their broken Westron for a different language entirely.

"Ya' were'nt supposed to leave any o' the strong uns." An old voice growled. I dared to open my eyes a centimeter wider.

Two filthy bear skin clothed men were bending over two youths. One a gangly fellow with red hair and the other… Thurstan's unconscious body. A faint line of blood slid between his parted lips.

"These ol' rats and youngins won' be no good fur any 'ard labour." The younger Hillmen replied.

Keeping my head stone still, I strained my eyes about me. About twenty other villagers were tied up in what looked to be the interior of a barn. Indeed, there were only the oldest men and scraggly looking boys.

The men turned around and I squeezed my eyes shut again.

"Take this un." A voice said right above me, "This chicken limbed worm won't last fur a month."

"We conquered these 'ere people and we'll take em as our slaves, but I'll be damned if the straw 'eads'll try'n give us the stabber if we give em the chance." The elder said.

The other grunted in dissatisfaction as if he wanted to reply. But didn't.

Another voice joined them, this one sounded like rusty steel. "Where 'r all the womenfolk, eh?"

"The rats must 'ave gotten wind we was comin. They sent those uns off inter the fields, we'll find a few in a day, I reckon." The youngest replied.

"Mmm, I s'pose so, but I s'pect we got a few right 'ere. These straw 'eads are tricky blighters." The eldest said suspiciously. It took all the strength in me not to spring up and run for the doors.

A great bang erupted from the far right of the barn and a booming voice roared. "Git these 'ere filthy dogs up! We're movin." Large hands shook my shoulders violently and I snapped my eyes open. It took considerably more to wake some of the others and a few ashen faced old men had to be doused with water

The bindings on my legs were removed and a metal clasp was hooked on the abrasive ropes around my hands. The Hillman who forcibly yanked me from the floor had thin lips and a short beard, in contrast with the massive curly things his compatriots wore. He looked younger as well, which may have accounted for this slight vanity in keeping his hair within reason, but the way his mouth was set made me think he was anything but young in experience. His lips were held in a straight, hard line.

He pulled me out of the barn and into the sunlight. I tried to bring my hands up to my face to shield my eyes from the blinding light, but he yanked the rope pulling my hands down. It wasn't cruel, in an instinctive way I knew this. He was indifferent to my feelings, his only concern was to get me were I needed to be in the most efficient manner.

The rope attached to me was hitched to the back of his horse and I stood and watched as the other Hillmen secured their own prisoners to their steeds. Most of the other raiders were not so impartial in their treatment. The gangly red haired youth was being beaten about the head by the Hillman leading him.

The rusty voiced man came up to my Hillman. "Oi! Why do you git a fresh pick'un when I git this 'ere crusty geezer?" He started angrily pointing to who I realized to be Wiglaf. My eyes opened in surprise and I nearly called his name, but stopped short by the grim shake of his head. He conveyed something with that motion that did not take words to explain. _Your voice is sure to give you away. _I clenched my jaw shut and pried my eyes away from my old friend and toward the two Hillmen.

The tight mouthed one never said a thing, he just fingered the hilt of his sword with a stony expression.

Rusty Voice eyed this movement before spitting on the ground and turning around.

Grim Mouth turned his sharp eyes to me and I resisted the instinct to step back. I felt like a wild animal cornered by the hunter. I stared back into his cold eyes, imaging his short bead on fire and those inflexible lips yielding to a scream of agony. Neither of us said a word. I was aware that I had played this game before, with my dog, back when I had a dog that is, but that had been for fun. This test held more stakes than I dared to count. Whoever looked away first would lose. That was the only rule. And the purpose was to establish dominance. I pinned my eyes to his dirt flecked face.

I couldn't say how long this continued but eventually he was forced to turn his stony face away when his chief bellowed again. "Move out!"

Grim Mouth mounted his horse and tapped the beast's flanks, but I could have sworn his rigid lips slackened the tiniest bit to enable the edges to slide almost imperceptibly up.

"Move it, dog!" Rusty Voice jabbed me from behind with a club. I bit my tongue to prevent the retort I had from springing out. I shot him a dirty look instead. He laughed at this, it sounded like sandpaper sliding against wood. "Ya better watch yerself, Guthred. Yers looks 'bout ready to eat ya with 'is eyes."

Guthred said nothing.

And so we started the march and Rusty Voice decided to taunt the prisoners around him.

"Ya straw 'eads think so much of yerselves and yer horses and yer Golden 'all, but as we speak the White Wizard is sendin a mi'ghty 'ost against yer stinking King. The White 'And, 'e will crush the lot of ya at 'elmsdeep." He sneered. I did not understand what he was talking about and his taunt was lost on me, but several of the prisoners let out involuntary groans. Rusty Voice smiled in cruel satisfaction.

Within only about fifteen minutes someone fell. A young boy. The ropes that bound him slid from his thin wrists as he thumped to the ground. This was not to be accepted.

The Hillman in possession of the boy received a sound fist in his chin for his ineptitude when the leader came over to inspect.

"Check yer pris'ner's" He shouted.

Guthred slid off his horse to check my ropes. His mud encrusted fingers dug more dirt into my raw wrists as he tugged and tightened the ropes. All of a sudden he grabbed my bound hands and turned them over. I looked at him, as he examined my thin fingers with hands that dwarfed mine, trying to discern the strange combination of focus and distrust that wracked his features. The hard line of his mouth hardened more still in his concentration and then it slackened and I knew I was not mistaken when it slide up into a slight smirk. Armed with that smirk he took in my entire appearance appraisingly. He looked me in the eye and with that look he seemed to say _I know what you are. I can tell a women's hand from a lad's. _And I looked away first.

Terror seized up inside of me as I remembered Wiglaf's words_ Forget about Saruman, girl, do you know what will happen if they find out you are woman?_ I knew. I tried to wet my lips in a frantic attempt to compose myself, but my mouth had gone bone dry.

Guthred mounted his horse once more, but his tight lips had become wolf-like in their steady silence. A beast, waiting and watching, for any sign of fear. In that moment I hated him more than I could say, but I did fear him.

Time swirled in my head as the march resumed. How long had it been? Ten minutes? Thirty? An Hour? But time wasn't really on my mind, it was just something to preoccupy more disturbing rest of my mind, the practical side, was more industriously employed with examining the many rocks and twigs I could get my hands on to stab Guthred when he wasn't looking, or perhaps I could strangle him with my ropes… and then my eyes alighted on the metal latch attached to the bindings on my hands. One side of the hook was sharp. Sharp enough to cut a rope even...

Another prisoner fell. I looked back to see who the unlucky man was. Wiglaf. His pale features looked drawn as he struggled to regain his footing. Rusty Voice jumped off of his horse and stalked over to Wiglaf with a menacing look. I tugged on my rope, trying to make it stretch somehow so I could reach the old man. Yet, all I could do was watch as Rusty Voice raised his club and brought it down upon Wiglaf's back. Then the rope tugged back at me and I swiveled my head around. Guthred was staring at me with his imperiously straight mouth. I glanced wildly between Wiglaf and Guthred before I made up my mind.

I sawed the rope vigorously against the metal for moments that felt like hours. Guthred seemed bewildered for a few of these moments before his eyebrow furrowed in outrage. _But he is too late!_ I thought victoriously as one of the ropes snapped and the rest come unraveled.

This was about the time when all hell broke loose.

A horn sounded and about half a heartbeat later riders poured from over a hill and descended upon our alarmed group. In the ensuing madness I leaped over to Wiglaf. I pulled on his arm insistently.

"Go," he wheezed.

"No." I whispered. The horn seemed to reverberate in my very chest, tugging at the recesses of my mind like a half-forgotten friend.

"Run! Run while you can!"

The horn was screaming at me to recognize it_. Where had I heard it before? Was it only in some faintly remembered dream or something more?_ Somewhere in the confusion I let Wiglaf think for me and found my legs leading me away from him. Thurstan was lost to my site, but I sent up a rapid prayer that he and Wiglaf would make it through this second battle.

As my legs pumped old images of a track cropped up in a distant corner my mind. I swung my arms in time with the pounding of my feet upon the ground. Through this rhythmic beat, the thundering of hooves rang behind me. I dared a wild glance over my shoulder to see a face set with cold eyes and a tight mouth. Guthred's movements were exaggerated by my spinning head so that he looked like some hulking predator reeling backwards and forwards as he leaned over the neck of his horse and drove his heels into the beast's flanks.

He was gaining on me. No matter how hard I worked my legs, I could not outrun a warhorse. The hooves banged louder and louder in my ears, echoing the accelerated beating of my heart.

When next I glance behind me Guthred was impossibly close. He stretched down an open hand to grab at me. I rolled to the ground, narrowly missing his grasp.

He wheeled his steed around and charged at me again. I resisted the urge to curl up in a ball on the ground and sprang to my feet. He rushed past me without attempting to grab at me, though, and then he charged again, repeating the taunt. The hard lines of his lips were stretched upward in the shadow of a grin. _He's playing with me._

I glanced desperately around for a weapon, a stick, anything. All that looked back at me was grass. Guthred was charging back, swinging his sword in lazy circles by his side.

When next he came close to me his hand found its mark. He lifted me from the ground by the back of my shirt. I cried out desperately, clawing at his hand. He ignored this in his silent fury and pulled me over the side of his saddle. My face smacked against the saddle as I flopped in place. Then my head swung and hit the neck of the horse as the creature was pulled up short. I managed to crane my neck to see in front of the beast. A rider was charging for us. He collided with Guthred in a matter of seconds and I managed to slip from over the saddle during the ensuing clash of steel.

I fell face first into the dirt and spluttered as I pushed myself up. I started upon seeing a hard mouth and cold eyes looking at me from about fifteen feet away. The battle above me was over. Guthred was breathing shallowly. I shivered.

"Get up boy!" The rider yelled.

I looked up at him and shook my head.

"Leave me in peace." I muttered, badly shaken. My head reeled from being knocked about so much.

"You are not dying, boy. Now I tell you, get up. I heard a cry. Where is the woman who uttered it?"

Ignoring his demands, I took off the elven ring with the mangled tree and threw it in the mud. Attempting to push myself up I fell over again. Even now the ring gleamed, untouched by the filth, mocking me.

"You-" The rider started in a breathless voice. "Boy- where did you get that ring."

"I heard it would bring back the lost, but how can I find something when I am the one who is lost?" I whispered into the grass. _Where were Thurstan and Wiglaf now? Most plausibly they are dead. When had death become so common a thing to me that it crossed my mind at the first sign of misfortune? _I was going to cry at any moment and wanted this damned rider to mind his own business. To my chagrin he did the exact opposite and jumped off of his horse and swiftly stooped to pick up the ring.

_Great, another bleeding heart._

I could not see his face through the helm, but his voice was deadly calm at his next words, "Tell me where you got this ring and where the maiden was who cried out and you will see the next day." He drew his sword up and pointed it at my chest.

Guthred watched the rider's interaction with keen eyes and his hand leaned back towards his rusted sword. In a swift movement the Hillman swung it from the ground and toward the rider's legs. But the rider was faster and knocked the blade from the Hillman's hand.

_Was Guthred sticking up for me?_ The wild, but undoubtedly correct, notion flew past me and I grabbed at it.

The rider brought his blade high over Guthred's head. Under the exposed flesh of the rider's wrists his muscles rippled in time with movement of the sword, as if the blade was merely an extension of his arm. He was poised for the kill. Ready to slice through the thick bone of Guthred's neck in one fell motion.

"No!" I cried, some semblance of reason taking hold of me. _Who was I to condemn this strange, silent man __to death__ or sit idly by while the deed was committed?_

He searched the countenance of the ragged lad. The only adjective to describe him was mud. Mud clung to his boots, his clothes, his hands, his face and it obscured his every feature. The boy's hair was also generously supplied with mud and its once light brown color had clumps of darker shades intermingled. Who was this filthy creature? Why on earth would he prevent the death of the man who wanted to enslave him and had most likely killed his family? More importantly where had he gotten his grubby little hands on _her_ ring?

But nonetheless Boromir lowered his sword. The Hillman would not be so bold as to try and attack again.

"I'll ask only once more, where did you get that ring from? Did you steal it? Did you find it in a- a ditch?" He tried to steel his voice but was betrayed by a hitch.

The boy looked up into Boromir's face with surprisingly bright, surprisingly large, surprisingly _feminine_ eyes. His head swam but he dared not let himself hope without proof.

"Show me your hands" He demanded.

The being before him held up a left hand mutely. A four fingered-left hand.

"Damn my eyes- it- it can't be." He said, he could no longer contain the trembling in his voice. He wrenched the helm from over his head to more clearler examine the being before him. "Ei-Eileen of Byrne?"

"Boromir…" she, _blessedly she_, whispered.

"Yes! Yes!" He shouted and grabbing her by the shoulder, heaved her up from the ground. He crushed her against him, wanting to feel concretely that she was there and not another dream.

"I am asleep," she whispered and he shivered against the soft breath on his ear, "If you are a phantom leave me be."

"You are the phantom, my lady, back from the dead."

He held her at arms length, finally taking in her image. How had he not recognized her, even under the filth she was still the same. The subtle line that ran under her high cheekbones, the subtle curve of tip of her nose, the way one side of her mouth fell slightly lower than the other when her lips where parted. And how she held her chin up, even in her seeming defeat. It spoke of a high breeding that should have been a dead give away that this farmer's son was not all he seemed to be. And it would have been had he not been blinded by a frantic terror that seized him when he had heard her scream.

"I did not think you would recognize me." She whispered so softly that he barely heard it.

"How could I not?" He said flatly. He was never a man for pretty words.

She looked down, trying to hide her face, touching a strand of her severed hair with unease. He placed two fingers under her chin and gently lifted it.

"You do not think so lightly of me to believe that I would not know you simply because you have shorn your hair."

She smiled, almost imperceptibly. A tinier and more alluring smile he had never before seen and it intrigued him to no end.

"My lord!" another rider shouted, "Where next?" Boromir looked around himself properly for the first time. A pathetic looking bunch of old men and cowering boys were standing together and looking with grim satisfaction at the corpses of a dozen or so wildmen. The young rider's face was obscured, but his eyes blazed with exhilaration. They had easily crushed the weak band of Hillmen. He looked back at Eileen. _Yes, the time has come._

"Where are we riding next, my lord?"

"Gondor."

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**Hope you liked it! ... review here ↓↓↓ haha I am so excited I found out how to make down arrows.  
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